Daisies. His father’s favourite flowers. Carefully, he
searched the grass, picking only the long, thicker stems he could weave
into long chains. Daisies were just right. The stems for
the emeralds his father most loved, petals for his favourite white
gems, the brilliant centre, just like his father’s golden hair.
He threaded the stems together, interlacing the flowers and weaving the
resultant chain into a thick rope, finally joining the ends
together. Satisfied, he ran to his parents, throwing himself into
his father’s arms and placing the daisy crown on his head.
“This is for you, Ada! Happy Begetting day!”