Family

Dandelion Wishes

Recently, I was informed of a fantastic ritual that takes place everywhere and everybody apparently knows about it. That is, everybody but me.

How could I have missed it, and how have I gotten by these 50+ years without knowing? Why didn’t my mother teach me when I was young? I could have told others, thereby avoiding any issues in their lives. But I digress; I will tell you how I learned of the practice.

My grandson and I went for a walk on a warm summer day. William knew just where he wanted to go. He was four years old at the time, making it appear that his legs would give out before we reached the destination he had intended. But being the compliant grandmother that I am, I agreed to the plan.

Sidebar:  Something I should mention before I go on, my grandchildren have nicknamed me “Lala”, I will share the reason in another story, at another time. But that’s why William called out with excitement, as we neared the open field, “Lala, come on. We need to make dandelion wishes.”

He reached down and picked two of the flowering weeds that had gone to seed. Holding up one, he said, “I wish Lala could come to my house everyday”, and he blew. He then turned to me and handed me the other stem, instructing me to make a dandelion wish.

“I wish for Lala and William to have many more fun times together”.  

And then, in this one act, a life of childhood fantasy became complete. As I blew, the round seed head released the parachuting seeds. They seemed to stay afloat for miles.

“You did it.” William smiled. “Now your wish is spreading.”

 I remember picking bunches of these flowers for my mother when I was young.  She proudly put them in a juice glass on the windowsill. At that time, no one that I knew had allergies, so they were enjoyed by all.  I have since been made aware that William’s sister is quite allergic to these. This makes the wishing ritual a viable alternative.

I am willing to admit that I do not remember hearing about spreading wishes until that very moment. I also want everyone to know that those beautiful wild flowers, that seem to be an annoyance to many landscapers, could be wishes that were spread.

Are they the result of a wish for a new toy or pet? Perhaps.

Or maybe . . . it could even be a wish for a Lala to visit every day.

So I will not encourage the gathering of the flower to put in a juice glass on the windowsill, but I will uphold the ritual of “spreading dandelion wishes” whenever possible.