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The Little Flower of Freedom
To Our Grandchildren and All of GOD’S Children:
On Tuesday, September 11th, 2001 after the tragedy at the World Trade Center, my two young grand-daughters,
Rebecca and Jessica, pulled up in front of our home in the family car driven by their mother. They had long, sad
faces, and were not the happy joyful children that usually met me with a smile, a kiss on the cheek, and a ‘Hi
Poppy’.
They had experienced first-hand as we all did the despicable act of terrorism and the loss of life that happened
that morning. These two beautiful children looked at me as I stuck my head through the open car window to kiss
each of them on the forehead. The oldest of them, Rebecca, said: "Pop, we are so scared, are we going to die?"
My heart sank as I looked at their little concerned faces. They were looking at me, their Poppy, for an answer to
their serious question. You know, Poppy’s around the world are always looked upon as a font of wisdom by their
grandchildren and now I had the difficult task of providing an answer and trying to comfort them.
"No, sweetheart, you are not going to die, you are going to live!" I said. "Let me tell you a little story." (I have been
known to spout a story from time to time. They listened intently.)
"Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, a flower seed took root in some new soil. The seed struggled to grow
through the tough hard soil as it pushed its way against the pebbles and rocks that blocked its progress to the
surface. It shoved and struggled and before long its little head broke through the tough earth and entered this
beautiful world. This little flower battled the heat of summer and the cold chilling winds of winter. In spite of this,
the little flower continued to grow and became taller and stronger with each passing year. This little flower was
the pride of the garden and before long stood tall among its friends and neighbors.
It was the most beautiful flower that the garden had ever seen, with a strong stem, bright green leaves and
magnificent petals. The little flower provided shade to the smaller flowers in its neighborhood . The honey bees
would come and take the nectar from it, and as the bees flew from flower to flower the honeybees would spread
its nectar throughout the garden. It was a wonderful time. The multi-colored birds would sit on the beautiful full
green leaves of this little flower and all were invited to rest upon the pedals of this flower and sing its praises.
All was well in this little garden.
Then one day a terrible thing happened. Without warning, the little flower was crushed by the heels of terrorism
and lay there on the cold, bare ground. Its stem was broken and its petals were smashed to the earth. The green
leaves that once stood so proudly were slowly turning brown. It was crushed beyond recognition and lay there
suffering. When the other flowers in the garden saw this they started to cry. "Why would anyone want to hurt this
little flower," said a neighboring daffodil?"
The other flowers in the garden could also be heard saying, "It’s gone, our most beautiful flower is gone forever,
we will surely miss her."
"What are we going to do without out little flower?" cried the bluebells.
The honeybees and little hummingbirds gathered and quietly from their tree branches looked down upon the little
flower that was bent and flattened on the cold, hard earth. The little flower was surely no more.
During the coming evening and on through the night there was a stillness in the garden. No songs from the birds.
All was quiet in the garden except for the sobs and crying coming from the other flowers. Then, as the night wore
on there were those silent prayers..
The Lord of the Forest was watching this from above and listening to all the prayers that night and took pity on
this little flower and decided to provide a new found strength, determination and will power to this little flower.
As the sun rose the next morning, and the first rays of warm sunshine broke through the darkness of night
something special and unexplained was taking place. The morning haze surrounding the garden started to lift, and
the dew that covered the leaves and branches of the other flowers in the garden was beginning to fade. It was
then that a beautiful thing happened.
There in the golden light of a new day stood the little flower....a sight to behold. During the night when all were
sleeping in the garden this little flower started to revive and grow again....... and it grew stronger then ever
before. As the other flowers and birds awoke in the morning, there was awe and wonder. There stood their little
flower...... but it was certainly somewhat different. The stem was larger and more powerful then before as it stood
straight and tall. It’s petals were a bright, striped red, brighter then the neighboring roses. And surrounding the
red petals in the bright sunlight was the purest white border that anyone had even seen. The center of the flower
became the deepest blue color and it looked as 50 little stars twinkled in its center.
It was the brightest red, white and blue flower that the Victory Garden had ever seen and its new name was
‘Freedom’.
This little flower that had been crushed the day before was now the symbol and hope for all the other flowers in
the garden. There was a renewed strength and a sense of togetherness and family which spread over the garden.
All the prayers of the evening before were not for naught and never before in the garden’s history was there such
an outpouring of love and understanding. There was a new found feeling of togetherness, or being one in solidarity.
It was surely a wonderful feeling.
And as the garden grew in the future it would continue to be an example to the other gardens that flourished in
this great world of ours.
So you see, my beloved grandchildren, the little Flower of Freedom may be crushed from time to time in the Victory
Garden of Life, but each time it comes back stronger than ever. This little flower became the symbol of hope and
inspiration for all of us. The little flower had taught us a valuable lesson that life goes on and cannot be destroyed
by what we call terrorism. You and I also will continue to live and flourish if we have love and family. We are all one
family in the garden and you my grandchildren and all children are ‘our flowers of freedom’.
This story was written for children.........all children......... in the hope that it can be imparted upon them, who
wonder about what life has to offer in the future. Just as the Little Flower of Freedom is an example of hope for the
Victory Garden so are our children the hope for mankind. Let us instill peace in their hearts.
I hope that other grandmother’s and grandfather’s, mother’s and father’s will take the time to tell this story to a
children It’s the best way of giving them hope, and hey.............who doesn’t love little flowers? Are not the children
of our world our little flowers?
God bless you all, and GOD BLESS AMERICA
Norma and Del Smith
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