I’m not a gardener.

I always wanted to be, but I have all of the will and none of the ability to do it.

I love my daffodils.

They are like a dependable friend. Each March, they spring to life no matter how harsh the elements are.

They are the symbol of wealth and good fortune.

They multiply, which to me is a feat in itself since I myself am so bad at multiplying.

They are beautiful, even when my son picks them for me and leaves no stem to put in water.

They are a sign of hope, and the anticipation of abundance. The sign that the dead of winter is over, and a new season of life is ready to begin.