Many of my fondest memories as a child with my mother and grandmother took place out of the window of a small, slowly creeping car as we drove by fields, stones, and structures of personal significance to the two older ladies. Few moments were as special as the first time we, along with my younger sister, stopped on the side of the road for our first view of the magnificent spring blooms. At that moment, neither my sister Shannon nor I could pronounce the name Narcissus for the beautiful daffodils (jonquils) lining the road ways. Neither did we know of the many stories that shroud these gentle blooms with popularity. What Shannon and I did know is that our mother and her mother seemed completely enamored by the sweeping flow of the delicate, pure white or yellow daffodil blooms. Both ladies meandered into the ditch to feel the petals for themselves and to pull one from the earth for each of us to hold. My sister and I, though then confounded at the sight of [...]