In a quiet corner of heaven, beneath a glowing tree filled with light and memory, three friends often gathered. Malar, a curious girl with gentle eyes. Bumble, a small bee with strong wings and a restless heart. Johnny, a large golden dog with a soul made of loyalty. Each had come to heaven from Earth, in their own time, carrying questions. One day, as they lay in the soft grass, Malar looked up and said, “I was just thinking about marigolds. The ones in Grandma’s garden.” “They were so bright,” she added, smiling. “Golden yellow — like little suns setting in the west.” “I remember those,” said Bumble, buzzing gently. “But they didn’t look yellow to me. I saw something different — these glowing violet patterns, like invisible arrows pointing me to the nectar.” “Humans can’t see ultraviolet,” Malar whispered. “I never knew there were arrows.” “That’s what made them beautiful,” Bumble said. Then Johnny raised his head from her lap. “I didn’t see yellow or violet. The marigolds were just gray to me. I can’t see red or orange the way you can.” “But I remember the smell — earthy and warm, like sunlight you could breathe in.” The three of them sat in silence, each remembering the same flower in their own way. “So…” Malar said slowly, “we all saw the same marigold, but it looked different to each of us?” She tilted her head. “Then what color was it really?” Bumble buzzed thoughtfully. “Let’s go ask God.” ⸻ They walked through fields of light and gentle wind, across quiet hills that shimmered like dreams. And there, sitting on a wooden bench beneath a sky full of stars, was God, quietly watching the universe breathe. He turned and smiled. “Hello, little ones. What brings you to Me today?” Malar stepped forward. “We all saw the same marigold back on Earth. But I saw yellow. Bumble saw purple. Johnny saw gray. So… what color was it really?” God chuckled softly. “Oh, what a beautiful question.” They leaned closer. “You see,” God said, “flowers reflect light — tiny waves bouncing into your eyes. But every creature sees with different eyes, different minds, different souls. What you see depends on how you were made.” “So…” Malar asked, “there’s no one true color?” God smiled gently. “There are many truths. And each of you held one of them. That’s the magic of perception.” Malar grinned. “You sound both like my science teacher and a magician at the same time.” God laughed. “Well, science is a kind of magic — the kind you can measure.” Johnny tilted his head. “So… we were all right?” “You were,” said God. ⸻ But then Malar’s smile faded, and her voice grew quiet. “God…” she whispered, “Can I ask something else?” “Of course,” said God. She looked at Bumble and Johnny. “We remember the flower,” she said softly. “But we also remember… how we died.” Bumble’s wings slowed. Johnny lowered his head. “I think…” she hesitated, “I think I need to say it.” God nodded. “You may speak it here.” ⸻ “I was sick,” Malar said. “Really sick. I had been for a long time.” “On one of my last good days, I went out to the garden. I just wanted to see the marigolds. One more time.” “I reached for one… and then a bee flew near me.” “I was scared. Not of the bee — of everything. My body hurt all the time. I didn’t want to hurt anything. I just… flinched.” “And I hit it.” Tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t mean to. But it died. I cried for hours. I thought I’d done something unforgivable.” ⸻ “I remember,” said Bumble gently. “I was just following the patterns in the petals. That flower was my favorite.” “I didn’t know she was sick. She hit me — and yes, it hurt. But when I looked up, I saw her eyes. Sad. Scared. Sorry.” “Even if I only had a few heartbeats left… I used them to stay near her. I wanted her to know she wasn’t alone.” ⸻ “I stayed too,” Johnny said. “From the moment she stopped going outside, I never left her side.” “In the hospital, I curled up at the foot of her bed. I stopped eating. I didn’t want food. I just wanted her to feel safe.” “When her breathing slowed… I laid my head on her chest. And then I went quiet too.” ⸻ The three friends sat in silence — not heavy, but full of truth. Malar’s voice trembled. “So… Bumble died because of me. And Johnny died… for me.” God’s voice was soft and strong. “No, Malar. They didn’t die because of you.” “They died with you. For love. Out of loyalty. Out of something deeper than fear.” ⸻ Malar looked up at the sky, glowing with colors she had never seen before. “And the marigold… we all saw it differently. I thought I saw it best. But now I know… I only saw a part.” God nodded. “No one saw the whole flower. But all of you together? You saw what it truly was.” Malar wiped her eyes and smiled. “So the world wasn’t made in just one color?” God’s eyes sparkled. “No, Malar. I made it in millions so that every creature, every heart, could see something different… and all of it beautiful.” And in that still, quiet moment beneath the glowing tree, the three friends felt something warm A truth: The world isn’t just what it is. It’s how we see it. How we feel it. How we remember it. In other words… It’s all about perceptions and perspectives. by Gowtham