Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

THE SAD FLOWER

THE SAD FLOWER

Following is an excerpt from my story “The Good-For-Nothing Boy”:
(“Good-for-nothing!” How many among us felt as though we were good-for-nothing and
unwanted? How many among us ever felt without a purpose in life? Today, I will tell
you one of the chapters of the story of a little boy who felt the same way. Together with
his firely friend, let us join him in his search for his purpose as he journeys over strange
and distant lands and as he miraculously uncovers his worth, his mission, and his heart.)

I. THE SAD FLOWER

“Good morning, flower! You seem to look good today!”

“Thank you, little boy! I’m glad you liked my petals; they’re so colorful even Mr.
Rainbow would be ashamed of himself.”

“They’re colorful indeed,” the boy replied, truly amazed by the petals changing colors now and then, sometimes pastel, sometimes becoming even luminous. “How did you find out you’re good at this?”

“I don’t know. I think I’ve been doing this all my life. Well, maybe not when I was still a seed. I used to be very afraid to go out, but time came when I finally got tired where I was. I wanted to see new things and find out more abou the world.”

“You must be so glad you came out! It would have been a waste to hide your petals from the world. Maybe you don’t encounter any problems anymore,” the boy said while gently touching the flower’s fragile petals. By now they have changed into crystal-like ornaments..

“Oh, but the truth is I’m often troubled”, the flower said. “On some days, I even feel depressed.”

“I think I don’t understand,” the boy said, scratching his little head.

“You see, I’m only good when creatures big and small gaze upon my colorful petals. I’m only beautiful when others look at me and admire me. When night comes, I’m easily ignored. Come nightfall, people pass by without taking notice of me. Oh how dreadful! And when it rains, it’s even worse. The clouds block the sun and I’m no longer seen. Rain pours and I’m drenched all day, with no poise or elegance whatsoever. It’s really terrible,” complained the pretty flower.

“I guess I never looked at it that way,” the boy said, trying to figure out the problem.

“What did you say?!” the flower grumbled. “I mean, what could be worse than that? What could be worse than being drenched and ignored and taken for granted? What could be worse than feeling you’re of no use to anybody? Do you know that my petals become more colorful when they’re admired? My petals are only petals because they have some use for somebody. When they’re neglected, I don’t even know if they’re still there at all,” the flower sobbed, her petals now turning into deep blue.

“I think I understand. But I guess I really can’t do anything to help you. I know I can’t stop the sun from setting nor the clouds from raining when the right season comes.”

“Well, thanks anyway. I know you’re not good for anything of the sort. Now go on and leave. Go now, little boy.”

“If you must say so, pretty flower. I too, must attend to problems graver than yours. For atleast, you’re good at something during the day. Atleast, somebody appreciates you when the clouds don’t get in the way. As for me, I still don’t know what good thing I can do.”

And so the boy, with quite a heavy heart bade farewell to the flower. If only he were as bright and colorful as she was, he could have been so happy. He would have ended his search. But looking at the flower from faraway, he couldn’t help but be sorry too, for the flower. She could’ve been happy. She could’ve been glad for all the sunny days she’s had. It’s true that night comes each day, but night passes. It’s true that rain comes once in a while, but behind those clouds is the sun still shining bright, just waiting for her time to come and shine again. And so he took his journal and scribbled something, something like a poem to say what he couldn’t say. He will send it to the flower so she may have something to read on a rainy day.

A LITTLE CLOUD
A little tear, a little crying,
For not all of life is smiling;
A little cloud, a little rain,
Though the sun is always shining.
A little pain, a little aching,
So our hearts can keep on growing.
A little cross to see the right,
A little night before the light!


By: Jocelyn A. Soriano
abbiejoice@yahoo.com
www.itakeoffthemask.com

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