Hallie’s affair partner was a dark-skinned, skinny, plain-looking flower farmer. By that time, Hallie had already reached great success in her career.
She no longer chased after money or fame. She began putting more of her time into personal interests.
She didn’t care for stocks or investments, didn’t care for beauty or fashion.
But one day, she suddenly became interested in flowers. Imported, cheap, ordinary, rare, she liked them all, bringing every kind to her small garden.
Among all of them, her favorite was the iris I once gave her for her birthday.
"It was this flower that made me fall in love with flowers from all over the world."
"Such a simple seed, with a little human care, can grow into something so beautiful."
"The whole process amazes me."
She said she loved flowers, but what she loved even more was watching them bloom.
In that small world of hers, she was like the ruler of everything.
Flowers opened and faded, died and grew again. It all depended on her.
What Hallie said, I couldn’t really understand. To me, a flower was just a flower; it bloomed when it wanted and faded when it was time.
Why worry too much?