Flowers Are Not Always Red!

Flowers are not always red with green stems! While pursuing my Elementary Education degree at BYU, I learned the importance of fostering creativity in our children, encouraging coloring out of the lines so to speak. As a result I enjoyed doing art projects with my own children when they were young, hoping to inspire their individual creativity. There is truly something magical when a young child takes paper, scissors, glue and crayons or paint in hand, to create something they have imagined within their own mind!

The other day my four-year-old grandson, Zander, spent the morning creating paper sculptures with carefully cut magazine pictures, stickers, glue and tape. He likes me to admire his artwork so I suggested he display his paper sculptures on my bedroom door. He was delighted, running to our desk for tape. Out of the corner of my eye I watched him carefully arrange each treasured work of art, counting the items displayed and then proudly standing back to view his accomplishment. “Perfect,” he exclaimed. Throughout the day he would return to check on his masterpiece, mumbling new plans under his breath to expand his door display. It was such an easy, inexpensive project, made of outdated dot matrix computer paper with perforated edges that he ripped off. Yet I marveled at what a profound affect it had on his already well adjusted self esteem that day.

In celebration of creativity and the great works of art and music that personal self expression has brought into our world, I want to reiterate the profound message from one of my favorite children’s storybooks, now unavailable. It’s called, “The Little Boy,” by Helen E. Buckley.

The Little Boy


By Helen E. Buckley



Once a little boy went to school.


He was quite a little boy,


And it was quite a big school.


But when the little boy


Found that he could go to his room


By walking right in from the door outside,


He was happy;


And the school did not seem 


Quite so big anymore.



One morning


When the little boy had been in school awhile,


The teacher said:


“Today we are going to make a picture.”


“Good!” thought the little boy.


He liked to make all kinds;


Lions and tigers,


Chickens and cows,


Trains and boats;


And he took out his box of crayons


And began to draw.



But the teacher said, “Wait!”


“It is not time to begin!”


And she waited until everyone looked ready.


“Now,” said the teacher,


“We are going to make flowers.”


“Good!” thought the little boy,


He liked to make beautiful ones


With his pink and orange and blue crayons.



But the teacher said, “Wait!”


“And I will show you how.”


And it was red, with a green stem.


“There,” said the teacher,


“Now you may begin.”



The little boy looked at his teacher's flower.


Then he looked at his own flower.


He liked his flower better than the teacher's,


But he did not say this.


He just turned his paper over, 


And made a flower like the teacher's.


It was red, with a green stem.



On another day, 


When the little boy had opened


The door from the outside all by himself,


The teacher said:


“Today we are going to make something with clay.”


“Good!” thought the little boy;


He liked clay.


He could make all kinds of things with clay:


Snakes and snowmen,


Elephants and mice,


Cars and trucks


And he began to pull and pinch
His ball of clay.



But the teacher said, “Wait!”


“It is not time to begin!”


And she waited until everyone looked ready.


“Now,” said the teacher,


“We are going to make a dish.”


“Good!” thought the little boy,


He liked to make dishes.


And he began to make some


That were all shapes and sizes.



But the teacher said, “Wait!”


“And I will show you how.”


And she showed everyone how to make


One deep dish.


“There,” said the teacher,


“Now you may begin.”



The little boy looked at the teacher's dish;


Then he looked at his own.


He liked his better than the teacher's,


But he did not say this.


He just rolled his clay into a big ball again,


And made a dish like the teacher's.


It was a deep dish.



And pretty soon,


The little boy learned to wait,


And to watch,


And to make things just like the teacher.


And pretty soon,


He didn't make things of his own anymore.



Then it happened


That the little boy and his family


Moved to another house,


In another city,


And the little boy


Had to go to another school.


This school was even bigger


Than the other one.


And there was no door from the outside


Into his room.


He had to go up some big steps


And walk down a long hall


To get to his room.


And the very first day


He was there,


The teacher said:



“Today we are going to make a picture.”


“Good!” thought the little boy.


And he waited for the teacher


To tell what to do.


But the teacher didn't say anything.


She just walked around the room.


When she came to the little boy


She asked, “Don't you want to make a picture?”


“Yes,” said the little boy.


“What are we going to make?”



“I don't know until you make it,” said the teacher.


“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.


“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.


“And any color?” asked the little boy.


“Any color,” said the teacher.


“If everyone made the same picture,


And used the same colors,


How would I know who made what,


And which was which?”


“I don't know,” said the little boy.


And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.



If we don't let our children be the architects of their own dreams, if we set limits on their imaginations, if we always devalue their ideas and goals, we are not leading. We are depriving them of an opportunity to reach their potential. We need to tell our children that they can indeed use all 64 colors in their boxes and that the world is filled with thousands of different flowers and their blank pages can be transformed into pictures of beauty. Because flowers are not always red with green stems!