I drag my chair closer to the desk, grab a headset and click on the mouse.

Computer keys pound in the background choreographed by the women who sit beside me.

My first call registers on the screen.

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“Hello, Karin’s Florist, this is Colleen, how may I help you?” I utter softly, so as not to disturb the other operators.

The caller answers the greeting and the tap of my own keyboard joins the dance. I sift slowly through my first order and ultimately, begin to navigate the system with more ease than I expect.

I am fascinated by this new environment. Thus, the reason I jump at the chance to respond to my friend’s email about seasonal help for the holiday. I have long been a fan of the florist which she owns and operates.The trademark arrangements considered works of art rather than standard floral medleys.

I am here to dip my toes in the flower business. To relish the hustle and bustle, beautiful flowers and the chance to do something outside my own box.

I will marvel at the volume of orders, the behind the scenes secrets, and the army of delivery people who complete the magic.

I will learn great things such as which flower colors pair best and how to pronounce intimidating botanical names.

I will experience the floral industry.

But I am caught off guard. 

I listen to the calls as they come in…

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One man asks that his card read ‘he is the luckiest guy in the world’ while another pledges ‘he is still with the love of his life.’

A dad sends flowers to his little girl while another is continuing the tradition with his now grown daughter.

A son reminds his mother she was the first woman in his life and another man sends flowers to his mom each and every week.

There are traditional Valentine’s declarations and those with unspoken words. There are serious loving proclamations and funny inside jokes. There are caring pledges and the quiet simplicity of a love which has withstood the test of time.

I am wrong. 

This is not the business of flowers, it is the business of love.

I must confess, even I at times believe flowers a luxury.

An exquisite portrait of nature’s bounty with not enough time to view the wonder.

But, again I could not be more wrong.

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Flowers are not a limited luxury they are an endless expression of love.

Their time is not merely devoted to the vase they inhabit but the heart they travel towards.

And when these fragile gifts of nature shed their petals their work is done. Their physical presence spent for a heart renewed. 

The next time around, this writer will be with a guy who sends me flowers.

The kind of man who will remind me ‘he is the luckiest guy in the world’ and ‘I am still the love of his life.’

A guy who recognizes the similarity between these magnificently fragile blooms and stems and a thing called love. 

I thought I would experience the intricacies of the floral industry.

Intead, I experienced love.

(Flowers from Karin’s Florist located in the Washington, D.C. metro area in the town of Vienna, Virginia)

//www.karinsflorist.com

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(Photo my own – Floral Arrangements Karin’s Florist in the Metro D.C. area in the town of Vienna, Virginia

Follow me on Facebook @Colleen Orme National Columnist
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E-mail: Colleen.Sheehy.Orme@gmail.com
www.colleensheehyorme.com

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