WHERE THE WHITE FLOWER GROWS

            Squeals of children playing sang through kitchen window of the old farm house.  Inside Grammy and Pawpaw sat at oaken table, listening, watching, drinking a not usual afternoon mug of coffee.

            "Thank the Lord for coffee," Grammy took another sip.

            "Yep," Pawpaw reflected. "Caffeine is about the only way to fend off our normal afternoon snooze. Sure could use a nap, but we need to keep tabs on those little rascals." He chuckled.  He and precious wife held hands cross that table, turned gaze from each others eyes thru window to the children outside.

            At the edge of the yard, little Christin pointed past fence up the hill. "Flower," she tugged on older cousin Kirk's sleeve.  "Flower," she repeated.

            The good Kirk smiled.  Since her birth, Kirk had loved his little cousin.  Her whim had always been his command in deed.  He followed her finger pointing.  Saw what he thought was the most beautiful white flower on the hill between white picket fence and the cross of snow on the mountain beyond.

            "Flower," little Christin urged.

            Kirk hopped the white picket fence, raced up the hill...

            Pawpaw had just taken deep sip of too hot coffee.  He swallowed fast and hard, yelled out kitchen window, "Kirk, stop!!!"

            The flower possessed the eyes of Kirk, closed his ears by its pretty.  For the only sound Kirk heard was the whisper of white flower's beauty, "Pick me... for I am the jewel of all delights.  Pick me... little Christin awaits..."

            Kirk reached out to possess the possessor, grasped white flower's stem tight.  From his palm the pain screamed up his arm, tore through spine, seared brain, roared from throat...

            Pawpaw turned over chair, tore out the kitchen door.  With resolute purpose Grammy rose, went to the pantry, prayed, "The poultice most be prepared.  Please bless it and bless Kirk, dear Heavenly Father; I ask in Jesus precious name..."

            At the table Grammy sat stirring baking soda into honey with tad of water, as Pawpaw carried a whimpering Kirk through kitchen door.  A train of grandkids followed.  Pawpaw sat Kirk in chair next to Grammy.  Grammy waited for her husband to retrieve duct tape from lower cabinet.  She gently placed Kirk's hand palm up on the table.  As Pawpaw applied the duct tape to the wound, all six of the other grandchildren gathered round.  Little Christin held on tight to Kirk's arm.

            To the children Pawpaw explained, "The tape will pull out the poisonous hairs of the bull nettle."  Pawpaw peeled off the tape from the palm of Kirk's hand and out came the thin hair like spears of the bull nettle in the stick-um.  Grammy began applying the cool poultice of honey and baking soda.  With each dab the whimpering of Kirk subsided.

            "A lesson for us all," Pawpaw taught.  "not all... that is beautiful... is harmless."  The ears of the children's hearts opened wide.  "Long, long ago in heaven above, a certain angel thought himself so beautiful that he sought to steal the throne of God.  For this, he and the angels on his side were cast out of heaven. Ever since he has seethed hate and trod the earth seeking to trap away any he can from our Heavenly Father. One of his favorite tricks is to disguise himself or one of his servants as attractive or good or moral. This evil prince of darkness even at times disguises himself as an angel of light, perhaps as a politician or false person of religion or false teacher, or even just one of us.  So do his servants also, as they have learned from him.  ...And such is through yon kitchen window, 'where the white flower grows,' but a hill of stinging bull nettle, that tries to separate those within the white picket fence from the cross of snow on the mountain beyond."

            All eyes of the children peered through kitchen window past white picket fence ...to where the white flower grows.  Scarcely had they noticed the exit of Pawpaw, till they saw him carrying the hoe up that hill...
                                               
             2nd Corinthians 11:13-15 (Satan and his servants masquerade as an angels of light.)


            Without our Heavenly Father we are like children without guidance, who play in the nettles that sting...                                                    
                                                     Allegory & Scripture
                                                   
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