Ryanne Molinari

I am a firm believer in dandelion wishes. Now, I don’t mean to say that I think they always come true, but I know the joy that comes of finding the perfect, fuzzy blossom, squeezing my eyes shut tight, and whispering a little prayer as its petals dance away on my breath like pixie parasols.

My friends laugh at me when I veer off a running trail or sidewalk at the sight of a dandelion waiting to be wished upon or go out of my way to step on a crunchy leaf or examine a bright flower. As focused and busy as I may be, however, I must pause to enjoy such things, childish as they might seem.

When was the last time you stopped to listen to a creek babble as I am doing now as I write this? When was the last time you took off running just for the sheer pleasure of movement? When did you last greet a squirrel or whistle along with a bird? Or made up a story to amuse yourself or sculpt shapes in the clouds or imagine music in the wind?

I know I’m beginning to sound like a Disney princess, but I mean it. These little things are not so little; they are life-giving, small remnants of paradise left to us by a gracious Creator. They are the dustings of fairyland and more real than some of our “grown-up” concerns.

I believe in dandelion wishes and, right now, wish that more of you would join me.