“There in the garden in New York, Dad had gathered me in his arms and whispered in my ear.
"All these beautiful colors," he'd said in his lazy way, stubbly cheek pressed to mine.
"Yes" was all I could say.
"If Nature made all these flowers look the same, it would be a boring garden. It's all the different kinds that make it so beautiful."
I had nodded at his solemn face. Before he let go of me, he gave me a soft kiss on the eyebrow.
"Just you remember, people are like that, too. Just like that.”
―
E.M. Crane,
Skin Deep