I can plant a garden with beautiful flowers and vegetables and tend them all summer long. Come fall though, those flowers will die and the vegetables eaten, is there is nothing I the laborer can do to aid your sorrow about the flowers death?
Those flowers were your life, you would sit in the shade under the trees on a long wooden chair, that I had crafted with the help of the trees that were there before. You pondered and let your mind dance while your eyes watched the bees move from delphiniums to snapdragon flowers and back again. I would step aside and go do other things to let you be while I let thoughts and feelings sieve from my heart and soul to my hands where they could take flight. You would smile with the things I would do. Make a swing set, cast a hammock between the trees, whittle miniscule wooden birds to sit next to you. All of this I aspired to help you feel better when you came home troubled from the life that confronted you beyond the sight of our trees.
But now, now it is fall. Being the person that I am... I am sorry dear, I could not save the flowers, I could not save the bees, and my wooden birds can not do more than remind you of that which they mimic. There will be times dear when you come home and feel that I can not help you, because I do not know your troubles for my self. I can hold you and empathize to the best of my abilities, but that seems to be of little or no consolation to your heart which grieved to watch the flowers and the sun, something so calming and beautiful, dwindle away. Please do stick with me a little while and do try to smile, 'cause come winter...
I will make you a snow man
Just keep those flowers in mind, there will be new ones next summer.
<3
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