The Dandelion

  

   "It is already spring," I said, while opening the front door. I almost felt the spring. The cold winter was gone, and cosmic resurrection was already taking place outside. Through the storm I watched events outside. Things were starting to live again. The front lawn was turning green. "What a beautiful lawn we have!" I thought to myself.
   Suddenly, I discovered a yellow flower at the far corner of the front lawn. Unconsciously, I kicked storm door. I opened it vigorously and dashed out into the yard with bare feet and picked the dandelion. I tried to pull it out completely, but some of its roots refused to loosen. I gazed at the dandelion in my hand. It was golden yellow, like the rising sun. "Why don't I like you?" I questioned myself. In its smile was the cynical message: "You hate me because I represent you." I felt sad and lost the courage to question any more. I sat on the lawn and looked mindlessly at the lonely dandelion. Gradually I returned to my early childhood in Korea.
   I lived in a small farming village about fifty miles north of Pyongyang, the capital of North Korea. When spring came, the firs things I saw were the dandelions blooming all over the countryside. I liked the bright yellow flowers, and picked them one by one to make a bouquet, then brought them home and placed them in a water-filled cup. the yellow flowers helped to brighten our dark rooms.
   In the early summer, when all other plants were beginning to produce their green leaves, the dandelion was already producing its seeds. The golden flowers changed to white cotton in the midst of green field. On my way home from school, I would sometimes pick one and put it close to my mouth and blow on it as hard as I could. Then I would see the white seeds fly up in the air and come down like parachutes. Most of the seeds came down nearby, but a few, driven by the wind, rose high into the sky.

   Among them was one brave seed that went farther away than the others. Summoning the courage to go as far as it could, it had faith that it could find a better place to live. Soaring skyward, it floated like a cloud and flew over the mountains, crossed the rivers and ocean, and finally, arrived on the great continent of North America.
   It was certainly a strange place for the dandelion deed when it landed in the beautiful front lawn of a house. The dandelion seed was afraid to land there, but it had no choice. The wind had calmed down, and the seed could stay in the air no longer. The dandelion seed noticed that the green grasses were curious about its coming; they were somewhat excited at seeing something new. The dandelion seed was delighted with its reception.
   However, when the seed started to settle by covering itself with rich soil, the grasses said: "You ahd better not settle here. As you know, this is only for us." The seed thought they were joking. "You are not serious, are you?" it said. The dandelion though that, since they had welcome its settling down. The grass said: "We'll tell you the truth. You belong at the roadside, where many wild plants grow."
   "But every dandelion has the right to live wherever it choose. I don't understand." A final warning came from the grass: "When spring comes, you will konw what we mean." Regardless of what the grass said, the seed settled in the yard and covered itself, preparing for the cold winter in a strange land.
   The cold winter did not last too long. Soon the warmer sunlight began to melt down the dusty snow, and spring appoarched in the yard where the dandelion had settle down. While the grass and trees in the yard were still sleeping, the dandelion was working to root itself deeply into the soil, while sending its sprouts up faster that any other plants. The dandelion worked harder and longer than any others, because it had to prove itself in the new place. By the time the other plants and grasses had started to come up from the ground, the dandelion already stood above the others. When they sprouted leaves, the dandelion had already produced a bright, golden, round flower, resembling the rising sun. The dandelion was so proud of its flower, the only flower in the whole yard. The dandelion did it to brighten up the yard and ples its owener.
   When the owner came out into the yard and saw the dandelion flower, he did not appreciate it. Rather, he hated it. He said to himself, "I though I weeded out all the dandelions last year, but there comes a new one up again." He then came all the way over to the coner and pulled the dandelion up. He wanted to pull out its root, but the plant was embedded so deeply that it broke instead; only half of its root came out. The man was frustrated, but decided to give up. Rather than dig further, he threw away the dandelion along the roadside. The grass, seeing what had happened to the dandelion, said: "We told you so last fall. You do not beling here. Go away!" But the dandelion said nothing. Half of its root was already taken away. It could not go anywhere.
    In spite of what had happened to the dandelion, it did not lose faith in God, who it believed caled it to settle in this land. "I must work harder than ever before," the dandelion sait to it self. It worked and worked to grow its root back to full size and then to come up from the ground. Again, the dandelion did its best to produce a beautiful flower. This time it produced a better flower, thinking that the owner was not pleased with the first one. The dandelion had confidence that this time owner would be pleased with its flower, which was huge and bright. Nevertheless, the man was angierer than before. "I hate to see that dandelion again," he sait to shiself. He pulled it out, but again failed to remove it completely; the root was broken again. The dandelion was greatly hurt but did not lose faith. It rooted itself deeper and deeper. The more it suffered, the more its root penetrated into the ground. Its faith was expressed in its root. The dandelion's faith became stronger and stronger as it faced the hardship of its existence. The faith that God had called it dwell in this land gave it an indomitable courage to pursue its goal. Nothing could thwart its purpose.

   In due course another springtime came to the place where the dandelion dwelt. During the wintertime the dandelion had done its best strenthen its root. It came out really strong this time and did its best to produce the most splendid flower in the yard. The dandelion thought that the owner of the house would be pleased with its flower. But agaion, the owner came out and pulled it out. This time he said, "I hate  to see this yellow color in my green yard." When the dandelion therefore decided not to display its yellowness. "I will have to conform to the color that the lawn has," the dandelion said to itself. To save itself and to please the owner, the dandelion no longer produced its flower. It stayed greenm like the rest of the plants in the yard. In this way it was able to survive another year without being picked by the owner.
   The dandelion survived, but it was not happy at all; it had lost the meaning of its existence. The dandelion tried to change is appearance to be like the grass, but it was not possible. However much it wanted to become like the grass in the yard, it could not do so. The dandelion knew that it was different from the others, and it could not disguise its nature. "I fool myself in trying to become like the grass. The grass is not going to accept me as one of them," the dandelion thought.
   During the long winter the dandelion thought and thought, and finally decided to allow its nature, which was yellowness, to blossom. "Without a flower my life is not worth living," the dandelion thought. So as soon as the spring came again, the dandelion flourished, stretching its long and handsome stem to the sky and producing its yellow and golden flower. "If I can live a few weeks, I can produce hundreds of white seeds and send them off from here," the dandelion dreamed. But its dream ended with a dream. In the dream the man came out and took the flower in his hand. He was an Asian-American, a yellow man, who also was dreaming. In his dream he became the dandelion.
   Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice, "Daddy, Daddy." It was my child's voice. I was brought back to the present, then saw the yellow flower in my hand. I looked at it anew. It was no longer ugly. "How beautiful!" I exclaimed to myself. Instead of throwing it away, I brought it into my house and put it in a plastic cup filled with fresh water. I placed it on the dining table to brighten up the room. Like the golden sun, the flower shined on in my house for a long time. Several days later its head turned white. I took it outside, and blew on it as hard as I could. The white seeds sailed high and began to fall like parachutes all over the rich green yards. "Let them livel let them live anywhere they want. It is God's world, and they are God's creature," I said as I watched them.

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from "Marginality, The Key to Multicultural Theology"
Jung Young Lee, 1995