Snapdragons!

When I was just a young girl, my family attended an average sized church that housed average-like people. Families dressed up each Sunday in pretty dresses, shiny shoes, button-ups, and curled hair. Basically, the people of the congregation looked like moving pictures, walking family photos.

I absolutely dreaded these days. For a young, 6-7 year old girl, Sunday mornings looked like wedgies from panty hose, shoes that meant I couldn't run wild with the boys, dresses that made me embarrassed, and learning about how big Goliath was over and over and over again. Snack time was often disappointing, as well. Cut a girl some slack. However, there was one thing that always made me look forward to this end of the week—one thing that stirred happy emotions in me. Snapdragons! AKA Antirrhinums, to the bio geeks. In case you weren’t aware, Snapdragons are a peculiar plant that has flowers with the ability to open when pinched on either side. Imagine that they look like a letter “V” when opened up and a closed “V” when left alone. Let’s do some before and after pictures:



Before



After
(This was taken by yours truly a few weeks ago! Memories still thick)



Okay, flower lesson aside.

On Sundays, I lived for Snapdragons. They were located in the flower area that preceded the entrance doors. I can remember my dad putting on a puppet-type show with these little flowers, saying things like, “What a lovely, young lady you are!” and “How’s Kristin today?” (Side note: when I was younger, my dad only called me Kristin when he was either talking in the Snapdragon voice or when I was in trouble. Normally, his names for me were Bright Eyes and Punkin. Both of which I love much and hear regularly, even now. The flowers obviously didn’t know these nicknames, though... So Kristin it was!). I would watch, listen, smile, giggle, answer back, and just sit by them. Whenever I got a free moment at church, like when my parents were socializing, I would run over to the Snapdragons and try to make them talk like my dad did. For some reason, though, it wasn’t the same. The magic seemed to be gone when my dad wasn’t with me.

I can’t help but imagine how this emptiness mirrors our lives without our Savior, Jesus.

I suppose, now, that Snapdragons were not what made church time bearable. I would venture a likely guess that spending time with my dad was what brightened my world.

It’s kind of funny how nothing has changed. Love you, Daddy!

XO.