I was in my garden the other day, shifting a couple of plants around.  As a new gardener, it seems that every plant needs to be moved at least twice.   I noticed that the stem of a rose on my favorite rose bush, it's a delicate pink with a heavenly fragrance, had been broken.  Seeking to savor the scent in my home, I went to clip the stem and heard a sweet little voice ... "Kirsten, Kirsten!".  I walked toward my rose and heard "Kirsten, I'm here!".  It was little Charlotte, my neighbor's youngest daughter, a cute, sassy little girl of three.   I gave the rose to her and she loved it.  

    I went on with the business of deadheading plants and raking the sod in the area of my future patio.  Soon, Charlotte returned with a handful of Impatient flower heads and a Petunia flower she had pulled from her mothers plants.  She beamed and gave them to me. 

    "Thank you Charlotte"

    I placed my gift in a glass bowl filled with water.  It has been a cherished centerpiece on my dining room table for days.