
I love the fact that my husband sometimes brings flowers home, for no other reason than he just knows they make me happy.
He will see a pretty bouquet of roses, or sunflowers, or orchids, and he’ll make sure the person behind the counter wraps it up in nice paper and a pretty bow.
Without the the kindness of that particular stranger, I’m sure the flowers would come home in a poorer shape. But the pride the florist takes in his or her work ends up making The Hub’s day, and also mine.
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