Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, "Mother, you must come see the daffodils before they are over." I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead. "I will come next Tuesday," I promised, a little reluctantly, on her third call. Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and so I drove there. When I finally walled into Carolyn's house and hugged and greeted my grandchildren, I said "Forget the daffodils, carolyn! The road is invisible in the clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see bad enough to drive another inch!" My daughter smiled calmly and said, "We drive in this all the time, Mother." "Well, you won't get me back on the road until it clears, and then I'm heading for home!" I assured her. "I was hoping you'd take me over to the garage to pick up my car." "How far will we have to drive?" "Just a few blocks," Carolyn said. "I'll drive. I'm used to this." After several minutes, I had to ask, "Where are we going? This isn't the way to the garage!" "We're going to my garage the long way," Carolyn smiled, "by way of the daffodils." "Carolyn," I said sternly, "please turn around." "It's all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience." After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand-lettered sign that read, "Daffodil Garden." We got out of the car and each took a child's hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, we turned a corner of the path, and I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight. It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it down over the mountain peak and slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns - great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron, and butter yellow. Each different colored variety was planted as a group so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers. "But who has done this?" I asked Carolyn. "It's just one woman," Carolyn answered. "She lives on the property. That's her home." Carolyn pointed to a well kept A frame house that looked small and modest in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house. On the patio, we saw a poster. "Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking" was the headline. The first answer was a simple one. "50,000 bulbs," it read. The second answer was, "One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and very little brain." The third answer was, "Began in 1958." There it was, The Daffodil Principle. For me, that moment was a life changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun one bulb at a time to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountain top. Still, just planting one bulb at a time, year after year, had changed the world. This unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. She had created something of ineffable (indescribable) magnificence beauty and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration. That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time. Often just one baby step at a time and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world. "It makes me sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty years ago and had worked away at it 'one bulb at a time' through all those years. Just think what I might have been able to achieve!" My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. "Start tomorrow," she said. "It's pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask, "How can I put this to use today?" Author Unknown Marilyn L. Ali

Hi Marilyn This is a great story and lesson. I had read it before but it is good to see it again. I once was told a story of a yougn man that had come home all excited. He had come in for a church meeting, He began to tell his dad of a lady there that was minitering, He went on to say and dad she told me God was calling me to Africa and went on to tell me all the things God wanted me to do there. Dad sat there for a minute and replied, son is this lady still there at the Chuch? the son said yes she is Imthink, but why do you ask? The dad said you need to get back there and every where she goes you need to go. The young man was puzzeled at his dad reply.Dad why would I want to do that? Because son if you have not heard God tell you to go to Africa then you will need her to tell you what to do each step of the way to get there. Well this is so true. Many time God does give some one a word or thought of what their life's work is to be, but we all get there one step at a time. Keep up the good work my friend, God Bless you Johnny

Hi Marilyn. First I heard this story it was in one of our weekly meeting in the office. Since than, every time I feel "tired" of doing what I have to do I think about this story and the landskape with the daffodils! :-) So I remember that it worth the effort! Thank you for posting this. At least now I know how it sounds this in English. Have a blassed weekend.

Hello Brother Johnny, Thanks so much for your story...that was a good one as well! It just re-emphasizes the fact that we need to take it one day at a time, and do things one step at a time. Thanks so much for sharing! God Bless! Marilyn

HI Ana Maria, Thanks for sharing how this story has helped you in your life. That is really great! God Bless You! Marilyn