A tiny bud of hope pushed its way past the ashes of painful memories and began to rise in her heart like a little flower. The flower continued to grow, blooming, opening its pure white petals to show a golden center, fuzzy and soft, that peeked up at the sun and laughed. It pulled nutrients from the ashes around it and from the rain of tears, and still it grew.

A little daisy.

And it was going to thrive.