Ask before picking strangers’ flowers

I thought it was the definition of chutzpa when the guy knocked on my porch door. In his hand were lilacs that I recognized as being plucked from shrubs I had planted years ago. He pulled out his earbuds to ask if he could pick one of those yellow flowers just outside my door.
I told him no. If he would wait a minute, I would put on some shoes and cut some flowers for him. I led him to the lilacs and lectured him the entire way. I told him that he should never just assume flowers were there for the picking. Someone had spend good money on them. Someone had planted them. Someone had weeded them and perhaps even fed them. When people pick them, there are fewer for others to enjoy.
I continued my rant by telling him that it was easier on the plant to be cut rather than pulled. He offered to return the flowers in his hand. What was I supposed to do with those? The damage had been done. He offered me a dollar. I refused. I sent him on his way with a bouquet of lilacs with an order to ask first before picking someone’s plants. He was probably glad to get away from the crazy lady.
I never did give him one of those yellow flowers. The tulip he asked for was almost done blooming and wouldn’t have lasted the rest of the day.
I expect people to pick a flower or two every spring. I expect to lose a few daffodils and tulips to little kids. I do not expect kids who are twice my size to ask for more when they already have stolen lilacs in their hands. I hope I impressed on him to ask first before taking something that belongs to someone else.
I think that is what bothered me the most. He took what was rightfully mine. He didn’t ask first. I am more than willing to cut a bouquet for anyone who asks. I often took flowers to the elderly lady who used to live next door. I have cut flowers for people I didn’t know. I have even dug up a bulb or two to share with people who asked. I really don’t think I’m selfish enough to want them all for myself.
For every flower that is taken, there is one less for all to enjoy. There is no chance for that flower to reproduce and make more plants. There is a tiny bit less fragrance in the air. There is that much less food for bees, bugs and butterflies. There is very simply ... less.
But how much difference can one flower make? You might be surprised. It might not make much difference at all, or it might make all the difference in the world.
The theft of a flower erodes my faith in human decency. Not by much, but all those tiny pieces add up. Perhaps that is why so many older people become so grumpy. Their faith has been chipped away over time until all that is left is a frown.
Or maybe I am making a mountain out of a molehill. Maybe one flower picked early is one that won’t need to be deadheaded. I remind myself that it’s just a flower, an ephemeral bit of sunshine, dirt and water. It was never meant to last forever.
I wasn’t the one who created it. I wasn’t the one who decided it should have a certain form or fragrance. I was merely the one who bought it, planted it and cared for it. Still, it bothers me when someone takes something I consider to be mine.
If you want something someone else has, please ask first before taking it. You might have to endure a lecture, but you will surely get more than you originally wanted without irritating someone else.