It was one of the coldest Aprils on record. Then suddenly – a respite. A record-breaking warm day brought out the daffodils and crocuses and hope of spring. When wind rain returned the next day, the crocuses shivered and gave up, buds shut tightly until the return of milder conditions. The daffodils drooped under the weight of the water, but their blossoms remained determinedly open and cheerily bright. I aspire to be like the daffodils, pushing up through resistant soil, determined to blossom in spite of the cold, and when it’s all over, storing up the energy to return and do it over again the next time.
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