Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash, when what to my wondering eyes should appear but.... grass. I was overcome with emotion. "Dem", I cried, "come and see! It's grass, beautiful grass".
After this unending winter, the sight of just a small patch of green (OK, more brown than green) showing through the shimmering white blanket of frozen ice crystals returned hope to my winter weary heart.
I love grass. I love the way it feels under my bare feet. I love the way it smells when freshly cut and I love the look of a beautifully manicured lawn. But more than this, I love what grass represents. Grass is the ultimate survivor. It can flourish in the cracks of a sidewalk or roadway. It goes dormant throughout the winter or during times of drought and then as soon as it receives a little water and sunshine it start to grow immediately.
I wish I could be more like grass, strong and resilient. I wish I could endure difficult times with courage and stalwartness and then bounce back with hope and optimism the instant the clouds begin to clear.
I guess the secret is in the roots. Grass has a spectaular root system that reaches far into the soil in search of nourishment and strength. Maybe I just need to work on developing deeper roots.
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