Soft Petals, Quiet Gratitude

Najihah stood in the flower boutique in Ipoh, staring at the pastel bouquet wrapped in soft white paper. Pink gerberas, lilac roses, baby’s breath, hydrangeas, the gentle colours that looked like kindness turned into petals. She came here with a clear purpose, but now that she held the bouquet, her chest felt unexpectedly warm. She was buying them for her older sister, Hana.

The one person who had listened to her vent after every stressful workday.
The one who sent “Have you eaten?” texts at the exact right moment.
The one who stayed awake with her on nights when anxiety made breathing difficult.

Hana didn’t expect gifts but Najihah felt a soft tug in her heart to do this, to thank her properly, for once. The florist at White On White, known as one of the best florists in Ipoh, tied the pale pink ribbon neatly. Najihah smiled, appreciating the care and elegance in every fold. She was glad she came here. She wanted only the best for Hana.

As she left the boutique, the bouquet cradled in her arms, she thought about the past months. She had been overwhelmed with work, struggling in silence, often thinking she wasn’t strong enough. But every time she broke down, Hana listened.  Sometimes, staying is the greatest act of love.

Najihah reached home where Hana was sitting on the couch scrolling her phone. She looked up, confused at first, then surprised, “For me?” Hana asked softly. Najihah nodded and handed her the bouquet. “For being my safe place,” she said. “For always letting me talk and understanding me better than I understand myself.”

Hana held the bouquet like it was fragile glass, her eyes shining. “You didn’t have to…” she murmured. “I wanted to,” Najihah replied. “You always take care of everyone. Let someone take care of you too.”

Hana hugged her tightly. The pastel flowers seemed to brighten the room instantly. Gerberas for cheerfulness. Lilac roses for admiration. Hydrangeas for heartfelt emotion. All the things Najihah never managed to say out loud were now blooming gracefully in Hana’s hands. Najihah realised gratitude wasn’t just about thanking someone in words.
Sometimes it was choosing a bouquet, tying a ribbon, showing up with something beautiful, for someone who had been beautiful to your heart.

Tonight, Hana finally received the appreciation she had quietly earned a thousand times before.

Because love doesn’t always shout.
Sometimes it simply says,
“This is for you… thank you for staying.”