Beauty radiated off this flower.
The sun was no match for the golden-yellow petals adorned over the bronzed pistil.
Although many flowers alike surrounded the sunflower, this one caught my eye.
Carefully I picked the blossom making sure I pulled the root and all, I took it with me.
The roots took a grip on the pot I placed the treasure in. Admiring the beauty, I placed it where the best sunshine glimmered and gave the flower all the water I could give.
Yet, the once golden petals began to crumble into a copper. The top of the emerald stem began to droop with sadness.
I gave it more water. I gave it more sunshine.
The petals fell one by one.
A tear fell from my eye as I realized what I must do.
Picking the floret again from its root, I took it back to the field of sunflowers.
Carefully, I placed it back where I once found it. The petals became golden and the emerald stem stood high among the rest.
A subtle smile rose up to my mouth as I whispered through tears, “You did not pick me my sunflower but I hope whoever you pick, picks you too.”
-- Hailey V., 9th-12th Grade