Her joy gushed out like a broken sprinkler, spreading over all who would receive her--and all who would rather not. Even her walk took on an elated stupor, following the pattern of a skipping calf, or a child trying to avoid stepping on the lines.
When she took a breath, she spent it on praise, and when she set her hands to work on a bouquet, she could never tug at one bud without including an island of soil beneath it.