the park bench was deserted as i sat down to read beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree. disillusioned by life with good reason to frown, for the world was intent on dragging me down.
and if that weren"t enough to ruin my day, a young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play. he stood right before me with his head tilted down and said with great excitement, "look what i found!"
in his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight, with its petals all worn - not enough rain, or too little light. wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play, i faked a small smile and then shifted away.
but instead of retreating he sat next to my side and placed the flower to his nose and declared with surprise, "it sure smells pretty and it"s beautiful, too. that"s why i picked it; here, it"s for you."
the weed before me was dying or dead. not vibrant of colors, orange, yellow or red. but i knew i must take it, or he might never leave. so i reached for the flower, and replied, "just what i need."
but instead of him placing the flower in my hand, he held it mid-air without reason or plan. it was then that i noticed for the very first time, that weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.
i heard my voice quiver, tears shone like the sun. as i thanked him for picking the very best one. "you"re welcome," he smiled, and then ran off to play, unaware of the impact he"d had on my day.
i sat there and wondered how he managed to see a self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree. how did he know of my self-indulged plight? perhaps from his heart, he"d been blessed with true sight.
through the eyes of a blind child, at last i could see, the problem was not with the world; the problem was me. and for all of those times i myself had been blind, i vowed to see beauty, and appreciate every second that"s mine.
and then i held that wilted flower up to my nose and breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose and smiled as that young boy, another weed in his hand about to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.
公园的长凳空无一人我坐下来读下面的长，一棵老柳树零乱的枝条。人生的幻想破灭了，有了好的理由去皱眉，因为这个世界是故意把我拖下去的。
如果这还不足以使我的一天，一个年轻男孩的呼吸接触我，所有累了。他站在我面前，头一歪，激动地说：“看看我找到了什么！”
他的手上有一朵小花，那一朵多么可怜的景象，花瓣都破旧得不到足够的雨，或太少的光。他想要他死去的花朵和去玩，我假装微笑，然后移走。
但他没有退缩，他坐在我旁边，把花放在他的鼻子上，说：“闻起来真漂亮，太漂亮了。这就是我为什么选它的原因，这是给你的。”
那杂草在我死之前就死了。不充满活力的颜色，橙色，黄色或红色。但我知道我必须接受，否则他可能永远不会离开。所以我伸手去做了花，并回答说：“我需要什么。”
但他没有把花放在我的手上，他把它举在空中，没有理由或计划。那是我第一次注意到，杂草带着男孩看不见，他是瞎的。
我听见我的声音颤抖，泪水如阳光般灿烂。我感谢他选了秀的一个。”“你是受欢迎的，”他微笑着，然后跑去玩，不知道他在我的一天的影响。
我坐在那里，不知道他是如何看到一个自怜的女人，一棵老柳树下。他怎么知道我的自我放纵的困境？也许从他的心，他得到了真正的幸福。
通过一个失明的孩子的眼睛，我终于可以看到，这个问题并没有与世界在一起，问题是我。在我所有的时间中，我都是盲人，我发誓要看到美丽，并且欣赏每一秒都是我的。
然后我把这朵枯萎的花举到我的鼻子和呼吸的一个漂亮的玫瑰，微笑地看着那男孩的香味，另一种杂草在他的手要改变一个不知情的老人的生活。
