Ten years later, I came back to town for my wedding. The shop looked a bit older, but the familiar scent of flowers was exactly the same. I asked for daisies, and at first the owner didn’t recognize me until I reminded her about the young girl who once took flowers for her mother’s grave.
Her eyes filled with tears as she told me that she had known both my mother and my grandmother. She carefully wrapped the daisies and tried to refuse my payment, but this time I insisted. As I walked out of the shop holding the bouquet, I realized something important: a small act of kindness can quietly grow over the years and return to you when you least expect it.
