Several times my  daughter had telephoned to say, "Mother, you must come to see the  daffodils before they are over." 
 
I wanted to go, but  it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead "I 
will come next  Tuesday", I promised a little reluctantly on her third call. 
 
Next  Tuesday dawned cold and rainy Still, I had promised, and reluctantly I  
drove there.
 
When I finally walked into Carolyn's house I was welcomed  by the joyful 
sounds of happy children. I delightedly hugged and greeted  my grandchildren.
 
"Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible  in these clouds and 
fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and  these children that I 
want to see badly enough to drive another inch!"  
 
My daughter smiled calmly and said, "We drive in this all the  time, Mother."
 
"Well, you won't get me back on the road until it  clears, and then I'm 
heading for home!" I assured her. 
 
"I was  hoping you'd take me over to the garage to pick up my car." "How far 
will we  have to drive?"
 
"Oh...just a few blocks," Carolyn said. "But I'll  drive. I'm used to 
this."
 
After several minutes, I had to ask,  "Where are we going? This isn't the way 
to the garage!"

"We're  going to my garage the long way," Carolyn smiled, "by way of  the 
daffodils."   "Carolyn," I said sternly, "please turn  around."
 
"It's all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive  yourself if you 
miss this experience." 
 
  After about twenty  minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a 
small church. On  the far side of the church, I saw a hand lettered sign with 
an arrow the  at read, "Daffodil Garden."  
 
  We got out of the car, each took a child's hand, and I followed  Carolyn 
down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and  gasped.
 
Before me lay the most glorious sight. It looked as  though someone had 
taken a great vat of gold and poured it over the  mountain peak and it's 
surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted in  majestic, swirling patterns, great 
ribbons and swaths of deep orange,  creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, and 
saffron and butter  yellow.
 
  Each different-colored variety was planted in large  groups so that it 
swirled and flowed like its own river with its own  unique hue. There were five 
acres of flowers.
 
"Who did  this?" I asked Carolyn.
 
"Just one woman," Carolyn answered. "She  lives on the property. That's her 
home." Carolyn pointed to a well kept  A-frame house, small and modestly 
sitting in the midst of all that  glory.
 
We walked up to the house.
 
On the patio, we  saw a poster. "Answers to the Questions I Know You Are 
Asking" was the  headline.
 
The first answer was a simple one. "50,000 bulbs," it  read. The second 
answer was, "One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two  feet, and one brain." 
The third answer was, "Began in 1958."  
 
For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of  this woman 
whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had  begun, one bulb 
at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure  mountaintop.
 
Planting one bulb at a time, year after year, this  unknown woman had 
forever changed the world in which she lived. One day  at a time, she had created 
something of extraordinary magnificence,  beauty, and inspiration. 
 
The principle her daffodil garden  taught is one of the greatest principles 
of celebration. That is,  learning to move toward our goals and desires one 
step at a time--often  just one baby-step at time--and learning to love the 
doing, learning to use  the accumulation of time.
 
When we multiply tiny pieces of time  with small increments of daily effort, 
we too will find we can accomplish  magnificent things. We can change the 
world. 
 
"It makes me  sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I have 
accomplished if  I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty years ago 
and had  worked away at it 'one bulb at a time' through all those years? Just 
think  what I might have been
 able to achieve!"
 
My daughter  summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way.  
"Start  tomorrow," she said 
 
She was right. It's so pointless to think of  the lost hours of yesterdays.  
The way to make learning a lesson of  celebration instead of a cause for 
regret is to only ask, "How can I put  this to use today?" 
 
Use the  Daffodil Principle. Stop waiting.....
 
Until your car or home is  paid off
 
Until you get a new car or home 
 
Until your  kids leave the house
 
Until you go back to  school
 
Until you finish school
 
Until you clean the  house
 
Until you retire
 
Until summer 
 
Until  spring
 
Until winter
 
Until fall
 
Until you die....
 
There is no better time than right now to be happy.  Happiness is a journey, 
not a destination. So work like you don't need money,  Love like you've never 
been hurt, and Dance like no one's  watching.