A Yellow Flower

Reads: 60  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic


Yellow flowers signify happiness and hope. Do you have that someone in your life to whom you would like to give a bunch of yellow flowers? This is a short story about that someone..!

Submitted: March 03, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 03, 2018

A A A

A A A


She walked slowly through the dusty path, enjoying the beautiful scenery around her. The path was narrow. It was lonely. It looked like nobody ever took that path. A bunch of yellow dandelion flowers looked up from the creeps by the side of the path. She stopped and bent down to get a closer look at the beautiful flowers. Gently touching its tiny yellow petals, she smiled and picked up the prettiest one from its stem. The church was nearby. That was the only path that took you to the old church. She loved the walk. She loved to see the yellow dandelions dancing along with the gentle breeze. As she walked she met a few people. Familiar faces. She didn’t know their names and she never spoke to them. They smiled at her suspiciously every time they met at the church. Or on the way to the church. Some would just give a pitiful look and walk away. She knew that no one would want to talk to her. The church was majestic. It looked ancient. With stone walls and huge wooden door and a huge rusted bell hanging outside. There was no gate but a few stone steps led that to the entrance of the church. A very few people who lived nearby visited the church regularly. Other than that the church had no visitors. Behind the church was a grassy field. The field looked infinite. One couldn’t see where it ended unless you walk till you reach the end. She visited the church once in every week. She wouldn’t enter the church. She would just sit on the stone steps and listen to the sounds around her. The sound of bells ringing, leaves whistling in the wind, branches creaking, birds chirping. She had never seen the inside of the church. She sat on a step as usual and looked around. There were trees all around the church. The thick branches blocked the sunlight from coming through. She sat there for a while. Deep in thought. And letting out a short sigh she got up and walked towards the church. She quietly walked through the unpaved path that led to the field behind. She walked through the lush grass until she reached the old tree. She stood there by the tree waiting for him. The sky was slowing turning to slightly pinkish orange. The air was filled with the fragrance of little white flowers that was blooming on the tree. She waited. He was wearing an old ragged jacket over a white t-shirt that looks almost like brown with dirt on it. He was probably in his 70s or maybe 80s. He looked old and timid. He wore thick glasses and held a walking stick in his right hand. He smiled at her as if he had been waiting for her. As if he had known her for quite a long time. She stared at him trying to figure out who he might be. She never saw him near the church before. She was unsure whether to smile back or not. She had been sitting on the rock just beneath the tree for about an hour or even more than that but she didn’t see anybody walking through the field towards the tree from the church. So where did the old man come from? She was suspicious. The old man grinned as if he had read through her thoughts very clearly. That was the first time she met him. The old man. She knew that he wasn’t coming that evening. But she wanted to see him. She thought he might come if she waits longer. She wanted to give him the yellow flower which he loved. She wanted to hear one last story before he left. Stories. He had lots of stories to tell. His stories were soothing. They made her think. They took her into a different world. The old man told her stories of moon and stars, animals, dead people, little children, trees, birds, mountains, magical creatures, demons, and even stories of people. Common people who lived normal usual lives. Sometimes stories from his own life. “Every single thing around us has stories hidden inside them… But only a few get to see them..!” he had said once. She left out a sigh as she looked at the sky which was already turning grey. He was not coming. She thought and looked at the yellow dandelion in her hand. “Yellow flowers are beautiful, aren’t they? They make you happy. Daffodils, marigold, yellow roses, buttercups..! They make you feel good...” she remembered the old man’s words. He was looking at a bunch of yellow dandelions she had carefully tied together into a small bouquet with a silver satin ribbon. His eyes were as bright as the flowers as he said that. He loved flowers. Yellow flowers. He always praised the beauty of the yellow dandelion flowers she gave him every time they met. He would look at them affectionately, with the happiest look on his face, caressing their soft petals with his hand as he spoke. There must be a story, she thought. A story of the yellow flower which he probably carried in his heart always. A story that made him happy or maybe it took him to his good old days. She never asked him about that. She was not curious. Whatever his reasons where she felt contented at the sight of the old man holding a bunch of yellow flowers close to his heart and smiling so wide as if he was holding the whole world in his hand. His stories were meaningful. They had life in them. Sometimes they were less of stories and more of his deep insights about life that he gained through a lot of experiences. “Every beginning has an ending”, he said as he stared at the setting sun with a serious expression on his face. “Just like how this field ends where it touches the sky, everything ends eventually.” She thought about it for many days. Even though she did not completely understand the deeper meaning, she felt that it makes sense somehow. And she was sure that at some point of time in her life the old man’s words would make the perfect sense. And maybe they would comfort her. Some other day he said that whoever we meet in the journey of our life has something to do with our life, big or small, good or bad. She remembered all the insignificant faces she met in her past as the old man continued speaking. What could be his role in her life? The old man’s? Why did she meet him? She thought hard. But she didn’t ask him. She knew he wouldn’t answer that. “Stop looking for answers, just let the questions pour in..!”, he said reading her thoughts. “You need not find answers to every question..! You’ll probably not find them all even if you try. Because the answers are not important.” He smiled at her. She believed everything the old man said. He made her believe them all. Even though she had never got a chance to experience any of the things the old man spoke, she believed that she would one day understand. His words were powerful. His way of talking, his deep looks and his gestures were all convincing. It was getting darker. She decided to leave. She slowly turned to face the tree and sat down on her knees beneath the tree. She placed the yellow dandelion on the grass. Probably the old man was right, she thought, the yellow flowers did bring happiness. Among a hundred tiny little white flowers that laid on the green grass the yellow dandelion looked brighter. She stood up and looked at the tree from top to bottom as if she was trying to find something. She knew he was there. Somewhere around the tree. Or probably inside it. Watching her. Smiling widely at the yellow flower she had brought for him. Because he had said one cold rainy evening, “This is where I live..!” pointing at the old tree. “My time has come. I have to leave. I have to rest...” That was the last time she met him. He had waved at her as she left, for the last time that evening. The final good bye. She slowly turned back and started walking towards the church. He had once told her that memories fade as time passes. Only emotions remain. “You wouldn’t really remember what happened or how it happened. You will only remember how it felt” She walked back through the lonely path thinking about the old man and his stories, smiling unconsciously. Just like the old man’s advice she decided not to look for answers. The yellow dandelion flower remained there beneath the old tree until its petals fell off and the colour faded, waiting for the old man to pick her up and hold her close to his heart..!


© Copyright 2018 Ye-jin. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Fantasy Short Stories