COLOR ME YELLOW!

by Shauna Brown 

Recently I was asked by one of my grandchildren, “Sunny, what’s your favorite color?”  I instantly thought of a crayon box and all the colors contained. As a child I loved the large box of 72 colors. It was an anticipated, traditional gift that I looked forward to each Christmas. I had a few favorite colors then, and they were the ones that wore down and broke quickly, usually the yellow ones.  

      Can you imagine what it would be like without a touch of yellow in life?  Yellow butter, yellow corn, yellow bananas, daffodils, cheese, omlets, lemons, bumblebees, pineapples, pears, banana squash, school pencils, school buses, the large yellow “M” arche , butterflies, the bright sun, cats eye marbles, yellow brick roads, sunrises and sunsets?    

        This past Friday I realized that yellow triggers and touches off a spark of emotion within the center of my soul. I receive a large bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers. Now I won’t cry over butter or bananas, but sunflowers caused a stirr of delight to dance, and tears to flow.  For hours after I pondered the effect it had within. 

What would we all do without that spark of yellow brightness in our lives?  I don’t know for sure, but I believe I fell in love with ‘yellow’ years ago, when I was just a little girl.  I loved our beautiful backyard. It was my secret garden of sorts. It was defined by Baskets of gold, pansies, larkspurs, daffodils, poppies, peonies, violets, ferns, iris, daisies, and varieties mother knew by name. I spent a lot of my childhood time there. 

Our yard and garden contrasted greatly to the adjacent “prison field.” For those who can’t recall, my childhood home bordered on the Utah State Prison in Sugar House.  I remember my Mother pointing out to me on a few occasions,  “See the difference Shauna. Beautiful gardens to bring enjoyment and peace, contrasted by those imprisoned  and surrounded by weeds and sagebrush. Prisoners who long to smell a rose, or touch our daffodils. Locked up behind bars, oh, can you imagine how they long to tickle their toes in grass.”  I felt sorry for them, and even prayed for them. They couldn’t observe the bumble bees dancing from flower to flower. Or watch the humming birds who thrived upon our honeysuckle bush attached to our clothes line post. 

      Oh, how I appreciate those memories as mama and daddy were so key to teaching the important things within my life. I guess one could easily say they pioneered the potentials within my soul.  Mother was quick to point out all the possibilities, capabilities, and taught me those things which could bring me everlasting joy. 

     When I was a young girl I would tag-a-long, with my older brothers into the “prison field,” it was the perfect place for discovery.  There were tons of red ant beds, grasshoppers, pheasants, gophers, field mice and black shinny stink bugs who would pump up their bottoms and send us scurrying on our way. Then there was the vast assortment of weeds, obnoxious burrs, and thistles which always got stuck in our socks. It was truly a field of contrasts. But even in that prison field there, for my enjoyment and wonder were freely growing sunflowers.  Perhaps that is where my love of yellow truly blossomed. 

Then when I became a ‘Beehive’ in the Young Womens program I was asked to select a flower that reflected me and would represent my personal emblem. Just that week at school I had learned about sunflowers. I was fascinated to hear that their  blossoms daily followed the light from the sun. I set forth to discover the truth of it for myself. I remember watching the reality of it on a Saturday and it was true. This phenomena is called ‘heliotropism’ or sun-tracking. I learned, when the water accumulates on the shady side of the stem, there is a hydraulic system that starts to work. As the pressure builds up, it forces the head of the sunflower to follow toward the light. This process provides enough energy and force to move the head of the sunflower in a 180-degree arc. Amazing! I love the thought and still continue to hope that the sunflower represent me as I continue to seek the light.  The more I studied about sunflowers I sadly learned that once the sunflower reaches maturity it no longer needs to follow the light.  Wow!  Doesn’t that give pause and reason to ponder? 

  Could I have possibly been influenced while living in the Sunshine Factory for the past forty years? The fact is we could have called  it the Rainbow Factory as well. Or we could have chugged along on the Success Express, or lived in the Motivation Station, or even the Brown’s Paper Sack.  I’m glad Rick and I selected the Sunshine Factory as a family theme. Thankful for the additional rays. I do love the color yellow, and girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes, snowflakes. . .    

Yet, after all these years, since I was that young Beehive girl of twelve, I find myself wanting more and seeking more frequently the light. Not for the cause of becoming a tan beauty, but because I need to feel the warmth, the security, the energy, the spirit, the power of God for myself every day.         

 Just this morning I read a thought by the famous author, Willa Cather,  I found it most interesting.“The new country lay open before me: there were no fences in those days, and I could choose my own way over the grass uplands, trusting the pony to get me home again. Sometimes I followed the sunflower-bordered roads. Fuchs told me that the sunflowers were introduced into that country by the Mormons; that at the time of the persecution when they left Missouri and struck out into the wilderness to find a place where they could worship God in their own way, the members of the first exploring party, crossing the plains to Utah, scattered sunflower seeds as they went. The next summer, when the long trains of wagons came through with all the women and children, they had a sunflower trail to follow. I believe that botanists do not confirm Jake’s story but, insist that the sunflower was native to those plains. Nevertheless, that legend has stuck in my mind, and sunflower-bordered roads always seem to me the roads to freedom.”    ~ My Ántonia 

     I smile as I can well imagine my mother or one of my ancestors filling her apron pockets with seeds and casting them to the wind with the dream, hope and desire for those following to enjoy bright yellow blossoms. Blossoms that beckon us to follow the eternal source of all light.

  

  Can you hear me singing loudly - like I did as a five year old?  --- It’s a favorite hymn:

       JESUS WANTS ME FOR A SUNBEAM

TO SHINE FOR HIM EACH DAY.

IN EVERY WAY TRY TO PLEASE HIM

AT HOME, AT SCHOOL AT PLAY 

A SUNBEAM, A SUNBEAM, JESUS WANTS ME FOR A SUNBEAM...

In becoming that sunbeam I want to raise my face closer. Hold my head up higher, follow and embrace all that God can issue for my growth and development.  So lets fill our pockets with sunflower seeds and purposes, and scatter sunshine far and wide. In so doing I want to share the sunshine and joy that grows and bubbles within  me until my spiritual hydraulic system bursts.

Have a great sabbath day.  Shine on!