Guest post by Amy Brecount White

[I've always been fascinated by the language of flowers - in my early teen years and again in college, I read several different books on what certain flowers meant when they were given to another (this correlated with the time when I was first heavily reading Emily Post's Etiquette). I always made sure that if I bought flowers for anyone, I knew what I was "saying" with the flowers. We jumped at the chance to have a guest post by Amy Brecount White who published a young adult novel, Forget-Her-Nots, about the language of flowers this summer. And in these dog days of summer when the land around us (at least here in Texas) is brown and dusty from a lack of water, I can think of the beauty of the flowers and dream of the fall and spring to come. - Jennifer.]

I often ponder what the very first cavewoman thought when she encountered a flower. It was beautiful, delicate, and gave off the most amazing scent, but she had to wonder what its purpose was... what "message" it could be sending her. Then she probably tried to eat it.

This question of the purpose of flowers has boggled the human mind for centuries. Why so much loveliness that lasts oh-so-briefly? Why such a variety of petals, textures, scents, and colors? We assume there must be some higher meaning.

The ancient Greeks came up with creative explanations for the existence of certain flowers in their fabulous myths. According to one, the narcissus (also known as a daffodil) sprang up from the death of a beautiful boy who fell in love with his own reflection in a still pool of water. Ever since, that flower has come to send the message of being egotistical, or narcissistic, in the language of flowers. According to another myth, the laurel that crowned the victors was originally a nymph named Daphne. Struck by Cupid’s arrow, the god Apollo fell in love with her and pursued her through the woods. Her river-god father changed her into a beautiful laurel tree when she cried out to him. Apollo turned the meaning of a crown of laurel into "glory."

In Shakespeare's Hamlet, the tragic Ophelia speaks the language of pansies, rosemary, and rue. On a lighter note, the sprite Puck uses the juice from a flower to work his mischief among the lovers in A Midsummer Night's Dream. And poetry from Robert Burns to Emily Dickinson is filled with flowery messages.

In short, human beings have always believed flowers must be more than they seem. Even now, when we modern types have the decisively scientific explanation for the colors, petals, and scents of flowers as a means to attract specific and well-suited pollinators, that logic falls short. Surely, the purpose of all that beauty cannot be to attract mere insects. Bugs don't deserve such beauty. In the Victorian period, the concept of a "language" of flowers reached its peak both in the United Kingdom and the U.S. Numerous books were printed with lists of flowers and their "secret" meaning. For example, lily of the valley is for "the return of happiness" while a red camellia expresses "unpretending excellence." Sweet basil means "best wishes," while regular old basil means "hatred." These books assign a meaning for nearly every herb, plant, or tree you can think of. No one really knows how popular it was to send messages through tussie-mussies (symbolic floral bouquets), but even today you can easily find books about the language of flowers.

What you may not realize is that this language is already a part of your life. Think about it. Even today, almost every special occasion is marked with flowers. Special birthdays like Sweet Sixteen, Mother's Day, rites of passage such as a bat mitzvah or confirmation, weddings, proms - all of these occasions call for flowers in our minds. And why? Because, I believe, flowers represent our quest to add beauty to our lives; they symbolize freshness and our hope that the world will always bloom.

No one can help but smile when she is presented with a fresh and festive bouquet. Place flowers in a room or yard, and they can transform the very air, so we can breathe in their sweetness. Flowers can also awaken memories and desires, as they do for my main character, Laurel and everyone around her in my novel Forget-Her-Nots. We give flowers to connect with each other and to express emotions that we might otherwise struggle to say out loud. We like to speak with flowers, just as Laurel does.

Personally, I believe the world would be a happier place if we all grew and gave each other a lot more flowers.

Amy Brecount White is the author of the novel Forget-Her-Nots, in which the language of flowers comes magically to life (Greenwillow Books, a division of HarperCollins, for ages 12 & up). You can find out more and order the book at www.amybrecountwhite.com.