Mrs. Mariette was out in her yard collecting the golden daffodils that grew by the porch. Her eyes glittered with the reflections of pristine yellow petals, and she seemed to forget about her hunched over back and white tightly curled hair for a few moments. All is young and cool and beautiful in the middle of March. North Carolina's favorite city was in full bloom. Even now Mrs Mariette stood in the shadow of a blooming dogwood tree.
Her loose cloths swayed around her in the slight breeze. As the sun warmed her crinkled paper-bag skin, she stared into the illuminated heart of the yellow flowers, and thanked God.
