Just Picking Dandelions

"In the waters of ourselves, the young ones hurt." Danette scribbles along the sides of her paper. Trying to find an answer to one of life's many questions. She listens to the speaker prancing on about the laws of Chemistry and how hard this class will be. Numbingly she takes notes. But her focus is on her cursive. The young ones, they always were the hardest to look after.

After years of babysitting and countless terms of nannying. Danette knew this to be true. Yet they were also the most joyous. It was simple to engage them and a young one could find happiness anywhere.

But Danette couldn't.

She struggled for years against depression and she felt the mist holding her back now. She carved into the fog, she chisled the tears away, but seemed to always be met with a new batch to chase. What did those young ones understand that she forgot? How could the simplicity of their lives allow them happiness when the complexity of her own caused discomfort?

She stared at the wall.

She knew she had to break free. What would it be like to be free? She scribbled about laughter and giggling, appreciating and pushing herself forward. How? How did she get to be free?

As the bell rang, she stared at her words. Unable to find the answer on her own. She walked through the school with the same daze as every other day. Approaching her locker, she found her books, carried her guitar and headed toward the long awaiting exit.

She followed the sidewalk mind numbingly. Knowing the way better than she knew her own name. But she resisted. She had her own case to follow. She turned left instead. The park was up ahead. What did they know?


The swingset stood in its mighty grounds. A little boy sat in a swing. His brown hair messed up from the wind and his eyes the color of the grass stuck between his toes. He giggled as his father pushed him higher and higher he went. His name was Adam, she overheard his father say it. Danette watched the scene and remembered how content she would be swinging for hours as a child. Laughing and singing just as Adam was. His father got preoccupied with the baby swing next to him. A gorgeous little girl.

Adam stopped swinging and explored the rest of the playground. He was a pirate on the slide and a cowboy on the monkey bars. He was an astronaut on the merry-go-round and a prince fighting a dragon for his princess near Danette's tree. She wrote the memories down the side of her notebook, as she watched. With the final slash from Adam's sword, the dragon fell. Adam stood imaginary sword in the ground, triumphant. And picked the dandelions next to his kill. Kissing each one as it entered his fist.

He walked over to Danette's tree.

"My princess, these flowers are for you. You are free." Adam said as he gazed at Danette with a smile. Danette took the dandelions with a giggle.

"Why thank you my prince, what should I do now?" Danette asked quietly to the little boy.

"Be happy and play." He said as he walked back over to his father, looking back one last time at the princess he rescued.

As Danette looked at the flowers, she saw through the fog, a little opening, a little crack. And knew her prince had saved her after all.