As the kindergarten class filed into the classroom, one little boy held out his hand, “For you, Mrs. Allen,” he said.
Then he opened his fingers and dropped into my hand three dandelion heads.  I knew from his grin, he thought he was giving me a treasure.  This reminded me of the dandelion bouquets my brother picked for my mom.
Brother was the kindergartner’s age or younger.  He’d roam around the large front yard of our farmhouse during dandelion season in spring.  Then he’d bring Mother a bouquet…a mass of golden dandelion heads.  No stems, just the heads.
Mother poured water into a cereal …read more