Redemption in the Sunflower

I used to hate sunflowers.

I lived in Kansas for three years, and I can unequivocally say that they were the worst three years of my life to date. I attended a school full of terrible human beings, experienced crippling loneliness, and had to learn how to stand up for my older brother as he was bullied by his classmates. We were 10 and 11 years old, respectively.

The state of Kansas is obsessed with sunflowers. Enter any mall in Kansas and you can be sure that there is an entire store in the mall entirely dedicated to sunflowers depicted in a multitude of ways. The sunflower is the Kansas state flower, and I hated Kansas so much that I used to find sunflowers hideous. I had never truly found them particularly appealing or beautiful before in the first place, but the negative experiences made me find them particularly disgusting.

The first time I ever found sunflowers beautiful, I experienced abject wonder at them. We were driving as a family through the mountains of Colorado, and we drove by an entire field of sunflowers that has just managed to grow wildly and communally on their own, with no rhythm or reason to their growth. There appeared to be a small infinity in that field of sunflowers, and I remember feeling breathless just looking at them.

Now, somehow, sunflowers have turned into my favorite flower. I love how gigantically joyful they are in color and size. I love that they are lovers of the light and turn their faces upward towards their Creator, setting an example for us humans. Now, I buy sunflowers at the grocery store every chance I get.