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Rated: E · Prose · Relationship · #2221925
taking the sting out of an insult
Some time ago, a woman tried to insult me by calling me a Dandelion. She proudly labelled herself a rose and the third woman in the room, a daisy. I smiled awhile, and quietly reflected on her intended insult. Then quietly, I turned to her and said:

The dandelion is a free spirit who plants herself wherever she wants to be, and adapts to many different climates and terrains with her natural resilience. She is a well-grounded, strong-rooted fighter, who springs back when battered and berated, stubborn in her will to survive. Although dressed in the colours of warmth (yellow) and purity (white), she is often disregarded or mistaken for a vengeful pest. But, behind her golden smile, she bares the title of healer, humble intellect and propagator. In her old age, she sports a fluffy white afro, that makes children smile with delight as they lift her to their lips, softly blow on her tresses and make a wish. For these reasons, I am so proud to be a Dandelion.

She had nothing else to say.

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