Dandelion wishes

My little one loves to pluck dandelion seed heads. She carries them to me, tight fisted wishes on hollowed stems. I smile, close my eyes, and scatter seeds to the wind. She asks me if I made a wish, and I smile again without answering. The truth is, I never do.

A few days ago, as I was driving past an open field, a breeze blew sideways across my path. Caught on that breeze were hundreds of seed heads, floating gently against blue sky, green tree and black road. It was such a sweet surprise. A little extraordinary moment in my day that brought me back to my girl’s bright brown eyes waiting on wishes.

I slowed enough to watch them float for a few seconds and I thought about all of the wishes I would attach to them if I knew that for each request there would be an answer. Life doesn’t really work that way, but wouldn’t it be grand if it did?