A little girl picks the prettiest flowers she has seen recently knowing Daddy wants something to paint.  What she doesn't realize, at her young age, is that they are her Mommy's favorite flower, Clovers.  Often considered a weed, a pest, and cut to the quick by a mower, they are rarely enjoyed or thought of as beautiful.  Like the dreams and ideas we all have in our youth...we are sort of taught to discard them.  She innocently lays them down at my feet while she tends to the more important business of chasing butterflies.  She has no real idea of what she has shared with me.  How beautiful and pure.  These could have been a queens crown or a braclet, but she shared them with me instead.