I walked out of college yesterday morning to catch the tram to the city centre. These fragile blooms caught my eye – cyclamen in what is in effect a patch of scrubland at the entrance to college. I wondered how they got there and if at one time it had been a more carefully tended patch of ground. It reminded me of conversations I have had recently where ‘fragile blooms’ could be seen as an appropriate metaphor of where people are at. It is so easy to do one or two things, not spot the fragility or trample on it. There are times when I am fragile, where I am grateful not to be crushed or trampled on but to continue to bloom and grow and perhaps even bring a touch of beauty (again metaphorically) to a situation. It reminds me too of Isaiah 42.3 which talks about a bruised reed he will not break, an encouragement that God sees me in my fragility too and treats me with tenderness.