The Unyielding Stem of a Wild Cornflower

When the sun was highest and there were no shadows noon on that June Michigan day, I went stomping through the field to pick flowers for my mother.  The daisies and dandelions I clutched were already bending over, wilting in my tight grasp, but my eyes were fixed on the blue cornflowers just beyond.

I knelt on the hot ground and pulled on the weed, expecting it to relent to my little hands.  The stem was strong and stubborn.  I ended up stripping the stem of its leaves all the way up to the flower head, which popped off in my hand.  I regarded it for a moment in that bright sunshine and then let it drop.  I decimated 4 flowers before I finally gave up.

In my little 5-year-old, not fully developed brain, I thought, “Me want flower.”  The consequences did not matter at all.  I did not mourn the flowerheads but kept trying until I learned that I was not strong enough to break them. 

Now, as an adult with life experience, and a brain developed and seasoned, I would leave the flower right where it is, where it belongs, along a roadside, cheerful and alive.

There are adults, I know, who would still want to conquer that flower, and they would go to the field, armed with weapons, not caring if the flower dies immediately, only wanting it like I did as a young girl.

Aren’t we in a constant struggle with those who respect peace and those who want to conquer and possess? 

I used to believe that all Americans believed in peace.  I was heady and thankful that our country helped others, sacrificed and enabled those weaker to stand alone.  Charitable.  The good guys.  That we allowed oppressed to come here for to live,  to contribute to our mixed culture.  We have all grown up, I thought, developed compassion and were finally allowing people to be who they wanted to be—experience life amongst people who aren’t the same.  

I am 60 now, years beyond that child with innocent intentions.  For the first time, I am afraid for our country.  So much rage and hate.  I want America back, with an honorable person to lead us into the future. 

Beliefs override common sense sometimes—faith can be misplaced, and it takes a strong intervention to change.  I wish people who want to possess and conquer would finally realize how exhausting the fight is.  How futile.