Lesson from the Dandelions

For many years, my husband raised sheep.

The children and I picked dandelions and fed them to the sheep.

Our animals had a great fondness for these very prolific little plants. We picked basketfuls and raced to the barnyard to see whose basket would be emptied first. The dandelions seemed to grow as fast as we harvested them.

I was a beekeeper, and the dandelions were treasured treats for my busy little bees. The bees produced a golden honey from these blossoms.

I often stood in the middle of the activity and listened to the happy hum of the bees as they sipped the nectar and carried it off to the hives.

The common dandelion is a very complex plant.

Few take time to give this plant a second look.

The dandelion flower goes to bed before dark.

It opens up early in the morning. The actual blossom has close to three hundred ray florets, which are surrounded by two rows of floral bracts.

The bees thrust their proboscises deep into each floret to sip the nectar. The dandelion was brought to North America from Europe and Asia.

Because it has a long taproot, it survived the long trip and thrives even in subsoil. I am sure the first dandelion blooms must have cheered the lonely pioneers. The early settlers ate the leaves and ground up the roots for a beverage.

It is usually the first blossom of spring and the last one in the autumn. I have eaten a dandelion salad, and it is passable —not my favorite, but it is definitely a spring tonic. My neighbors have no dandelions in their lawns.

They work very hard to keep their lawns a green carpet.

My lawn is a yellow carpet. I do not cut the lawn as long as the yellow blooms abound. It is a super food for my friendly little bees and butterflies.

You can cut down all the dandelions in your yard.

New ones will pop up tomorrow. I’m glad.

They remind me that Jesus never gives up either.

We can learn to be like the humble dandelion.

Always be ready to pop up again and shine.

Patricia Cove