Gemotions

The late afternoon sun warmed Amelia's face as she delicately arranged the miniature roses in their tiny clay pots. She hummed a wordless tune, her fingers moving with practiced ease. The clinking of the trowel against the terracotta was the only sound besides the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. A faint smile played on her lips as she surveyed her handiwork, a perfect miniature garden that had taken years to perfect. Her daughter, Lily, would be home soon.

Amelia sighed contentedly and returned her attention to the small potting table. She carefully wiped a smudge of soil from her apron, preparing to gather a few more cuttings. The door swung open and in bounded Lily, eyes sparkling with energy, clutching a well-worn sketchbook.

"Mom! Guess what? I drew a rose bush today!" Lily exclaimed, her voice bubbling over with excitement. Amelia’s heart swelled. It seemed her daughter had become entranced with her floral passion.