S;ylvester Markham; was born on the country side of England, the child of some fairly rich parents who owned a fair bit of land. Sylvester was overprotected by his mother who kept him on the estate much of the time, having Sylvester help her out in her garden or the flowerbeds. It was a very happy time for Sylvester who loved spending time with his mother and the flowers. The sports and other boyish playtime activities was of little interest for Sylvester. Flowers was to become his passion in life.
This passion led Sylvester into an academic route, a decision celebrated and encouraged by his mother who saw in Sylvester“s future a safe and honest life, away from danger and temptation. Bolstered by the knowledge that his choice of lifestyle pleased his mother, Sylvester delved into the world of academia with every part of his being. And he became hugely successful. His brilliant mind allowed him to learn and understand most fields of academia, but the one he specialized in was of course botany. In this field he excelled like only a man with equal measures of dedication and talent can. By the end of his career, he was a world renowned botanist and had moved to New York to join a university.
At this point Sylvester started to wonder if he had not accidentally made a bit too much fuss about himself. People were calling him, wanting him to speak in conferences and come with on expeditions. It was all flattering, but his English mentality and humble upbringing meant he didn't much think he deserved the praise, or that he much cared for it. For every talk and every expedition he was talked into going on, he felt more and more distant from the personal bond between him and his flowers that he so cherished. Deep down he started feeling as if his life was taken away from him. As if his success had somehow removed him from the driving seat of his own life.
After one of his seminars a plain looking woman came up towards him. She had plain clothes, large glasses, hair tied up in a bun and a nervous disposition. Sylvester had seen her many times at his seminars, vigorously taking notes as he spoke. He recognized something in her, but he couldn't quite place it. But here she was, nervously hanging back as the other attendants filed out of the lecture theatre.
"Mr Markham, I'm sorry to disturb you. My name is Daisy." she started, not quite looking straight at him. "Daisy" Sylvester said as he offered her his hand. "Dost thou love me?" "I .. ehh, I mean...." stuttered Daisy as she went bright red and looked down in the ground thinking "How does he know?!?!" "Oh no, I'm sorry miss. Daisy, the meaning of the flower name is 'Dost thou love me?'. I certainly didn't want to imply or offend you in any way. Please forgive my mistake." Now it was Sylvester's turn to turn bright red and look at the floor. They stood there like so for a few seconds, two socially inept people, too shy for their own good, accidentally stumbling upon the ice breaker they needed. "Wha .. What was it you wanted to speak to me about, miss Daisy?" "Oh, I.. It's silly, and I know you are busy, but I... Oh no, I shouldn't bother you with it, you are a doctor and all and I...." "Please, miss Daisy, I'm at your service. I mean, I'd be happy to help. I ..." "Oh well ok, I... You see, it's Makitoshi, my Japaneese Bonsai tree. He's sick. He was a present from my mother and he's dying and I've tried everything but nothing helps and I can't bare the thought of him dying and nobody knows anything about Bonsai trees but I thought that maybe you would because you are so brilliant and knows everything." The words flowed out of her like a dammed up river that suddenly broke loose. As she spoke of her dying tree, a tremble crept into her voice and a tear formed in her eye. This display of affection for a tree moved Sylvester's heart and her asking him for help in personally tend to a plant and not write a thesis or come with her to the Antarctica was equally great.
Sylvester did indeed save Daisy's Bonsai tree, and he soon realized that she was the perfect woman for him. She was not boisterous, she was not dangerous, she would not ask him to be someone more exciting or adventurous and most importantly, she would be the perfect partner to share his passion for botany. They were married within the year, and it would prove to be a marriage made in the garden of Eden. Within two years they had two girls, Hyacinth (Benevolence, Play, The language of flowers) and Laurel (Glory).
They also opened a flower shop and bought a patch of land outside New York. Sylvester would tend to the patch of land, cross breeding flowers and creating new and wonderful flowers, and Daisy would sell them at the flower shop. Sylvester would continue to write papers on botany, but he refused to do any more lecturing or expeditions, explaining that the only thing that mattered in his life now was his flowers, especially his Daisy, Hyacinth and Laurel.
Business went great, and the flower shop became the only place for the rich and glamorous to buy their flowers. No other florist came even close to have as well tended and cared for flowers than Sylvester's Flowers.
