Vince just looked at me and said nothing. Apparently he has no opinion about such trivial things as flower smells. Now if I had asked him a question about Thomas, that would have been a different story.
Elliot spoke up. "No Dad, I don't like the way Lilacs smell."
"Really?" I said. "What flowers do you like then?"
"I like the way Dandelions smell," Elliot said firmly.
I must confess that I am not in total disagreement with my son about the smell of lilacs. They are currently blooming at my home and it is just too much. Every time I open my back door, it is as though a phalanx of purple hatted ladies, each of whom had just dowsed herself in perfume, is waiting to assault me.
To this point I have survived, but just barely.
On the other hand, I can't say that I am too impressed with Dandelions. Perhaps it is the way they poke their fuzzy heads above the lawn, or pop up in the flower beds, but I don't see much beauty in them. I have absolutely no idea how (or even if) they smell.
Perhaps that is just my loss. For, there is more beauty in a bouquet of Dandelions in a child's sweaty hand that he is holding out to his mother than in all of the royal jewels in Europe. Even if they don't look like peace roses, there is an intrinsic beauty that God placed within them.
But it is more than that.
In the end, it is not the smell of flowers, or the delicacy of their blooms, but the love with which they are given that makes all the difference.
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