Fuming inwardly, she clenched her fists and unknowingly crushed the flower she’d just plucked from her garden.
Gazing at the crumbled petals in her hand, she suddenly got the sweet scent of the fragrance that now laced her palm.
She wondered if she’d ever let go of her rage and arrogance, so as to become as unselfish as this flower that left behind its most precious element for its tormentor to savor.
For Three Line Tales
Inspired by the quote: “Be like the flower that gives its fragrance even to the hand that crushes it.” – Imam Ali (a.s)