Me, You, And the Journey of Life

Tulip Flowers

"Good morning." A middle-aged mother came down from the black car.

Anindi paused for a moment, then said, "Good morning too."

The mother's appearance was unusually sweet and simple. He is seen as an arrogant rich man. Even the mother continued to carve a smile on her lips, beautiful. "Is this really Anindi's flower shop?" Approaching Anindi. Stand in front.

Anindi nodded quickly. "Yes, Mom. Can I help you?"

The mother's eyes stared inside Anindi. Paying attention to the appearance of Anindi who today wears a light blue robe with a black hijab, very fitting. "I'm so happy to have a bouquet of flowers from this store. Can I look inside?"

"Bye, Mom. Let's." Let's." It was with great pleasure that Anindi let the middle-aged mother in.

Both are inside. The mother continued to observe one by one the flowers. Includes red roses and tulips. Red and white colors that if combined will be very beautiful.

Anindi rushed over to the white tulip. It is always a pity if this type of flower is adopted by the buyer. However, he realized that it was one of the risks when selling. "It's a tulip flower, it's so pretty." Anindi touched one of the white leaves. Very gentle and soothing. "Some people admire him, including myself."

Her right hand touched one of the flowers. Feel the soft and smooth sensation that can be felt on his fingers. "I am the same. This tulip is one of the most popular flowers."

The mother returned a sweet smile. "I came to understand why this flower is so well maintained and beautiful because the owner loves the flower so much."

Anindi shy. "Thank you, Mom. But, I guess all the flowers here are also very pretty."

"Of course." The tail of the mother's eyes moved back to the red and white roses. Equally beautiful. The mother's legs approached, her hands touching a single piece of the flower and saying, "A while ago my son brought a bouquet of roses from here. Oh my God, so beautiful. And, until now the flowers are still fresh."

Anindi. That means the daughter of this mother is a customer of Anindi. I don't know which one. "Thank God, Mom." Anindi is quite happy. In a sense, the flowers can give happiness to every person given. "I don't know which child you have, but I'm sure the choice is the best. The rose symbolizes love. Not just for couples, but for parents and relatives."

The mother turned around, staring fixedly at Anindi. "Are you sure you don't know him?" The middle-aged mother's forehead creased tightly. It doesn't feel possible. "He carried the bouquet with a happy face. I have never seen that face. Ah, rather haven't seen."

Anindi. His brain thought hard with a curiosity that appeared suddenly in the soul. Who is that figure? Lots of buyers who came, obviously Anindi could not remember it one by one. "Sorry, Mom, I'm serving customers too much. I seem to have forgotten."

The mother smiled slightly, moving forward once. Now the distance with Anindi is only half a meter. Patting Anindi's right shoulder and saying, "I'm looking for you by relying on your shop name. I was curious, the owner of a florist who could make my child look more colorful. Apparently you're."

Anindi jerks. This topic has moved on to something more sensitive. Little private. "I'm sorry, Mom, can I know your son's name?"