From where I'm standing I see weeds.

From where I'm standing I see:

A weedy pile of kindness.

The kids were jumping on the trampoline. They begged me to come with them. I needed to get just one more thing done, so I shoo'd them all outside so I could concentrate. I took my time. I needed a break from the little ones who had been fighting all morning.

Just a few minutes passed, and the door opened. "What do you need?" I grumbled. I really needed to concentrate. I really wanted quiet.

"Here mommy, I got this for you." My little boy set a dandelion on the table and then headed quietly outside again.
"That's nice honey, thanks."
I go back to work.
Again, the door.
Again, a flower from a different child.
A reminder that they are waiting.
The door, another flower.
A pile of flowers. A demand for a vase.
Squeaking door, running feet, tiny child with a pile of flowers and a smile.
A demand for an explanation of why dandelion heads with no stems can't live in a vase.
An open window for the flowers, so they can "enjoy the sunshine and fresh air."
A satisfied smile, and another gentle reminder that they are waiting for me on the trampoline.

I still needed a break, and I still wanted to concentrate.

But they won me over with weedy kindness.