Red Flowers

Once there was a man who loved his flower garden.

Only red flowers grew in his garden.

And he was proud of every one.

“The finest flowers are red,” he’d say. “And flowers of any other color simply don’t belong here.”

He’d heard about other parts of the world where flowers of every color grew, but he had no interest in knowing any more. His favorite thing about those other flowers was that they were far enough away not to see.

He was content with his native red.

And for quite some time, he didn’t see a single flower of any other color.

Until the new people moved in next door, and brought with them the yellow flowers of their native land.

The man was quite upset.

“But they are kind of pretty,” his wife admitted.

“I don’t want you even looking at those flowers,” he yelled. “They’re going to take over. You’ll see!”

The man peeked through his curtains every day to see if those yellow flowers were inching their way into his yard, threatening his red flowers, and though they hadn’t, he couldn’t stop worrying about it.

Soon, more people moved to town, and brought with them even more colorful flowers. And gardens began to grow. Gardens that were so beautiful, even the native people began asking how to plant them in their own yards.

Then one morning, his daughter brought him a bouquet she’d made at school, bursting with blossoms of every color.

The man was so upset, he threw the bouquet right in the trash.

His daughter cried, “But they’re beautiful, daddy!!”

“Only red flowers are allowed here,” he shouted.

“But what’s wrong with the purple ones?”

“They rob the nutrients from the soil.”

“What about the pink ones?”

“They’re not even flowers. They’re weeds. They’ll take over everything. You’ll see.”

“You’re making a mistake, Daddy. Mother Nature gave us all these colors so that we can appreciate all different kinds of beauty! There’s so much to learn from every single flower that grows on this earth!”

But the man refused to listen. Instead, he built a fence around his precious red flowers to keep them safe.

“Be reasonable dear,” his wife begged. “No one can even see your flowers behind that big fence!”

And because the fence blocked the sunlight, his red flowers began to wilt.

And the man turned even more angry.

“You see?? I told you! They’re killing my flowers!”

The man cut up some cardboard and made himself a sign: ONLY RED FLOWERS ALLOWED! and he marched up and down the streets waving it, hoping to upset enough people to help him ban the other colors.

He managed to recruit a fair number and they planned their revenge: They snuck out at night and pulled as many colored flowers as they could from the soil, and then spread poison on the rest.

When his daughter found out about it, she refused to speak to her father.

“He doesn’t mean harm, honey,” her mother insisted. “Those red flowers remind him of what his life used to be like, when he was a child.”

“Well this is what my childhood looks like! It’s more colorful now! And I say every flower has a place in our gardens! And he’ll never get rid of them all, because I’m going to keep watering them!”

Her mother understood. And so did many of their neighbors.

And together, they began planting community gardens in the public park.

The man could hardly bear to walk the streets, flanked by all those bright colors; children and families enjoying themselves. Sometimes even he found himself attracted to all those other colors, which upset him most of all. And he’d shout to make himself angry again, “Only red flowers are allowed here!!!”

Before long, the town had so many varieties of flowers that the native reds were just one of many.

The man organized his angry friends and together, they tried to pass a law making it illegal to use town water for watering any other flower except red flowers, but the law didn’t pass.

And that’s when the man decided enough was enough. It was time to end this problem the old fashioned way. So he rented a bulldozer and drove it straight to the public gardens, intent on flattening every single last flower, except of course the red ones.

The man sat high in his bulldozer and entered the public garden, with its rows and rows of red and yellow and pink and purple and blue and green. But he couldn’t get through. Standing before the man’s bulldozer were hundreds of gardeners, blocking his way.

“We refuse to let our flowers be destroyed!” they shouted.

“Get out of my way,” the man shouted back. “Before you get hurt!”

“We will not go home, Daddy. These flowers are beautiful and we will not let you squash them!!”

The man was startled. “What are you doing here???” he asked his wife and daughter. “Get home! You get home right now!”

“Your red flowers won’t disappear, Daddy! They’re growing just fine with all these others!”

The man looked behind the gardeners and saw that his daughter was right. There were as many red flowers as there were all the other colors. But the man said nothing. After a minute or so, he just backed up his bulldozer and went home.

Time went on, and the man hardly ever left his house.

Most of the town had accepted the rainbow of flowers that had blossomed in their town. The land was meant for such beauty, they decided. And they organized flower festivals so people from all over could come visit such beauty. And one day, the man’s daughter was working at one of these festivals, when she turned around and saw her father, all dressed up, with a yellow rose in his hand.

“Daddy???!! What are you doing here?!!”

“I’ve come to admire the flowers, of course.”

His daughter looked confused, and the man sighed and looked at the ground.

“I realize I’ve made a big mistake,” he said. “It isn’t easy to admit. But I see now, it’s the right of every flower to blossom. And I see now, there’s enough sun and water for every flower to grow together. And… as a very wise young woman taught me, Mother Nature gives us flowers of every color so that we can appreciate her many expressions of beauty. There really is so much to learn from every single flower that grows on this earth.”

His daughter cried and hugged her father.

And from then on, the man was proud to walk through his town and admire the many beautiful gardens full of so much color. He even took his fence down and began working in his own garden again.

And by the following spring, his yard exploded with every color of the rainbow, and all of his neighbors came over just to stare at such beauty. His red ones were still there, but even the red ones looked happier to have some new friends.

The End.

 —JLK