Whether you’re touching down in time for Sunday or picking up something special at the terminal, here’s everything you need to know about the world’s most universal gift<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n There’s a moment most of us know well. You’re standing in front of a flower display \u2014 at a market stall, a supermarket, an airport concourse \u2014 trying to decide what to get. You want it to be right. You want it to say something. You know, vaguely, that roses mean love and lilies mean something else, but you can’t quite remember what, and the clock is running.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We’ve all been there. And while any flower given with genuine feeling will land well, there’s something deeply satisfying about knowing the story behind what you’re giving. As it turns out, the flowers associated with Mother’s Day \u2014 whether you’re celebrating in Seoul or Sydney, London or Lima \u2014 have some of the most fascinating histories in the botanical world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So settle back. We’ll walk you through them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Before the florists and the gift sets and the online delivery services, there was one woman, one church, and 500 carnations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Anna Jarvis \u2014 a determined, passionate, and ultimately heartbroken woman from Grafton, West Virginia \u2014 organised the first official Mother’s Day observance on May 10, 1908, at the Andrews Methodist Episcopal Church in her hometown. She distributed white carnations to the congregation in memory of her mother, Ann Reeves Jarvis, a social activist who had spent her life caring for others on both sides of the American Civil War.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The carnation was her mother’s favourite flower, and Anna had chosen it with intention: she later explained that carnation petals cling together as the flower dies rather than falling separately, which she read as an emblem of a love that never lets go. White for purity. White for grief, held quietly alongside love.<\/p>\n\n\n\n By 1914, President Woodrow Wilson had signed a proclamation making it a national holiday. By 1920, Anna Jarvis was suing florists. She had not intended to create a commercial event. She wanted, she said repeatedly, a handwritten letter. A single flower given with sincere attention. She spent thirty years and her entire personal fortune fighting the commercialisation of the day she’d founded. She died in 1948, in a care home, with no estate to leave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Her carnation, however, went everywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The original. The one that started everything.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Found in:<\/em> The United States, South Korea, Spain, Portugal, Italy, and wherever the tradition has traveled<\/p>\n\n\n\n Few flowers have a more specific origin story than the carnation’s Mother’s Day identity, and fewer still have been so thoroughly overtaken by the commercial world that followed. But spend a moment with the carnation \u2014 the proper, fragrant, heritage varieties rather than the spray carnations used as filler \u2014 and you’ll find a flower with more going for it than its reputation suggests.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Dianthus caryophyllus<\/em> has been in continuous cultivation for more than two thousand years. The Romans knew it. Medieval monks grew it in physic gardens for its medicinal properties and its fragrance \u2014 a warm, spiced, clove-like scent quite unlike the almost-odourless commercial varieties that dominate the mass market today. It appears in paintings by the Flemish masters: tucked into the hands of the Madonna, held by brides, woven into the garlands of the honoured dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In Spain and Portugal, the carnation is associated with the Virgin Mary \u2014 specifically with her tears at the Crucifixion, which tradition holds became carnations wherever they fell. A flower whose presence is linked to a mother’s grief is, it turns out, not a bad choice for a day that holds grief alongside celebration.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In South Korea, where Parents’ Day falls on the 8th of May, the carnation gifting has its own distinct character: rather than presenting carnations to be placed in a vase, Korean children pin them directly onto their parents’ chests. The flower is placed over the heart. It’s one of the more genuinely moving floral gestures in the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What to look for:<\/strong> Single-stemmed varieties with a visible fragrance \u2014 ask your florist for old-fashioned dianthus<\/em> rather than commercial spray carnations. Deep crimson, soft white, or antique pink.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The world’s favourite flower. But which one?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Found in:<\/em> Everywhere, all the time, in quantities that represent approximately 40% of global cut flower trade<\/p>\n\n\n\n Here is the thing about roses: the word covers an enormous range, from the extraordinary \u2014 fragrant, complex, historically resonant, botanically spectacular \u2014 to the entirely ordinary. The hybrid tea rose that dominates supermarket shelves has been bred for the cold chain: long-stemmed, visually impressive, reliably uniform, and largely without fragrance. It looks like a rose. It does not smell like one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Rosa damascena<\/em> \u2014 the damask rose, ancestor of the modern perfumery rose, cultivated for more than three thousand years from Persia to the valleys of Bulgaria \u2014 contains more than 300 aromatic compounds and produces the essential oil that underpins the global perfume industry. You will not find it in a supermarket. You will find something that resembles it, which is not the same thing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The good news: the gap between the supermarket rose and the good rose is not as large as it once was. The David Austin varieties \u2014 English roses bred in Shropshire with the cupped form and fragrance of old roses, now available from many florists \u2014 represent a genuine step up from the commercial hybrid tea. Varieties like ‘Juliet’, ‘Keira’, and ‘Olivia Rose Austin’ were specifically developed for the cut flower market and combine vase longevity with real scent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The geography of rose production is one of the more remarkable stories in global agriculture. Kenya’s Rift Valley, around Lake Naivasha, produces roses for the European market at a scale that has transformed the region’s economy. A stem cut at dawn in Naivasha will be in a London florist within 72 hours, having travelled through refrigerated trucks, cargo holds maintained at 4\u00b0C, and the vast Dutch wholesale market at Aalsmeer \u2014 the world’s largest flower auction, where 40 million flowers and plants change hands every single day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n If you’re buying roses, Fairtrade-certified flowers \u2014 available from many supermarkets and florists \u2014 come with verified labour standards for the predominantly female workforce that grows them. It’s a small extra step that makes a real difference.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What to look for:<\/strong> Garden rose varieties with genuine fragrance. Ask for Fairtrade where possible. Avoid anything that doesn’t smell of anything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The spring flower with a surprisingly dramatic past<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Found in:<\/em> The Netherlands, United Kingdom, Canada, and wherever Dutch floriculture has established itself<\/p>\n\n\n\n The tulip’s association with Mother’s Day is straightforwardly seasonal: it flowers abundantly in the spring months in the northern hemisphere, which is when the celebration falls, and a flower that is abundant and beautiful at the right time will become, through commercial gravity, the flower of that time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But the tulip’s history is anything but straightforward. It originated in the mountain meadows of Central Asia and was cultivated in the court gardens of the Ottoman sultans from the 15th century onwards. When it arrived in Holland in the 16th century, it sparked the world’s first recorded financial bubble \u2014 tulip mania<\/em> \u2014 in which single bulbs of novel varieties traded at the price of canal houses before the market collapsed with the spectacular inevitability of all such events.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The normalised, affordable, democratic tulip we know today \u2014 the \u00a35 bunch, the armful from the corner shop \u2014 is the outcome of several centuries of that story resolving itself. The extraordinary becoming ordinary. Which is, in the context of a gift for one’s mother, perhaps not the worst metaphor available.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Persian poets read the tulip’s red bloom \u2014 with its dark, smouldering centre \u2014 as an image of the heart on fire with love. This reading is available to anyone who holds one, and it costs nothing extra.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What to look for:<\/strong> Mixed colours for visual generosity. Single variety, single colour for elegance. Buy when the buds are still mostly closed \u2014 they’ll open over several days in a warm room, and the opening is one of the better things about tulips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Different things in different places \u2014 and all of them interesting<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Found in:<\/em> Australia (Mother’s Day dominant), Japan, China, South Korea, and increasingly in Western arrangements as a knowing choice<\/p>\n\n\n\n In Australia, the chrysanthemum is so strongly associated with Mother’s Day that the holiday is sometimes simply called chrysanthemum day<\/em>. The explanation is seasonal: it blooms in the southern hemisphere autumn, in May, exactly when the celebration falls. Availability and occasion aligned, and a tradition formed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What most Australians may not know is that the flower they’re picking up from the garden centre carries one of the most remarkable cultural biographies of any plant in the world. The chrysanthemum has been cultivated in China for over 1,500 years. It appears in the poetry of the 4th-century recluse scholar Tao Yuanming, who made it a symbol of integrity maintained in difficult circumstances \u2014 the flower that blooms when others have retreated. It was cultivated in spectacle at the imperial courts of the Tang and Song dynasties. In Japan, it is the emblem of the Imperial family, and the Japanese term kiku<\/em> \u2014 chrysanthemum \u2014 appears in the art, poetry, and political culture of the country across more than a millennium.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The symbolic meaning \u2014 virtuous persistence, blooming faithfully under adverse conditions, refusing to retreat from principle \u2014 is not a bad description of what the best mothering looks like.<\/p>\n\n\n\n One note for those shopping in multicultural cities: white chrysanthemums are associated with mourning in both Chinese and Japanese traditions. Yellow, pink, or mixed colours are the safer and warmer choice for a celebration.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What to look for:<\/strong> Large-headed single-stem varieties rather than small spray types \u2014 the spider and anemone-centred Japanese varieties, available from specialist florists, are in a different category from the supermarket filler. A generous bunch in yellow or deep pink in a wide ceramic bowl, stems cut short.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brief. Extravagant. Worth planning for.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Found in:<\/em> China (national flower and primary Mother’s Day bloom), Japan, and increasingly everywhere in the northern hemisphere spring market<\/p>\n\n\n\n The peony has an approximately three-week flowering season in the UK, running through late May and early June. In China, where it has been cultivated for 1,500 years and praised by Tang dynasty poets with an enthusiasm that makes modern lifestyle journalism look restrained, the city of Luoyang in Henan Province hosts a peony festival each April and May that has been running for over a thousand years. Tens of thousands of varieties bloom simultaneously. People travel from across the country to see them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Muqin Jie<\/em> \u2014 Chinese Mother’s Day, observed on the second Sunday of May \u2014 falls at the tail end of this season, and the peony’s cultural associations make it the natural choice: f\u00f9gu\u00ec<\/em>, wealth and honour, is what the peony signifies in Chinese floral symbolism. A gift of genuine abundance, extravagantly beautiful, given at the moment of its natural perfection.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The qualities that make peonies special also make them demanding. They must be sought out during their season. They wilt faster than roses. They arrive as tight buds and open over several days into blooms of almost excessive beauty. They cannot be obtained at any time from any petrol station.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This is the point. A flower that requires you to know when to look for it is a flower that carries evidence, in its petals, that the giver was paying attention.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What to look for:<\/strong> Buy when buds are closed and just starting to soften \u2014 you want several days of opening ahead of you. ‘Sarah Bernhardt’ (blush pink, large, classic), ‘Coral Charm’ (apricot to coral, watch it change over days), ‘Bowl of Beauty’ (single outer petals around a full centre, more restrained than the doubles). From a florist who can tell you when they came in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The flower that fills a room before you see it<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Found in:<\/em> United States, United Kingdom, Japan, South Korea, and globally through Christian traditions<\/p>\n\n\n\n The lily is the only major Mother’s Day flower whose primary gift is not visual but olfactory. The Oriental hybrid varieties \u2014 the large-headed, tall-stemmed types that dominate the cut flower market \u2014 produce a fragrance that is genuinely architectural: it fills a room, it persists for hours after the flowers are removed, it is present in the memory of rooms long after the flowers themselves have been cleared away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The lily’s association with motherhood runs deep in the Christian tradition. The Madonna lily \u2014 Lilium candidum<\/em> \u2014 has appeared alongside the Virgin Mary in Western religious art since the early medieval period. The Easter lily bridges the liturgical and domestic calendar in a way that makes it a natural presence at Mothering Sunday. In Japan, hanakotoba<\/em> \u2014 the language of flowers \u2014 assigns specific meanings to lily varieties: pink lilies signify ambition and aspiration; white ones, purity and refinement. A Japanese mother receiving a thoughtfully chosen lily arrangement knows she is being told something specific, not just something general.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What to look for:<\/strong> Buy with buds still mostly closed \u2014 three to four days from full bloom \u2014 so the fragrance develops gradually. A tall vessel. Three stems can be enough. Remove the pollen-bearing stamens before they open if you’re concerned about staining.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Small, honest, and exactly right for a particular kind of day<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Found in:<\/em> United Kingdom, northern Europe, North America, and wherever Victorian floral culture left its mark<\/p>\n\n\n\n The forget-me-not is in this guide because Mother’s Day is, for many people, not primarily a day of celebration but a day of loss \u2014 and the commercial flower market does not serve this constituency well. The pink roses and cheerful tulips and bright carnations in the florists’ windows represent an optimism that does not match every experience of the day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The forget-me-not’s name is its entire message. It is one of the most reliably self-seeding flowers in the garden, returning each spring from fallen seed without any intervention, its pale blue-grey flowers hovering just above the ground in a colour that shifts in changing light. Victorian mourning culture understood its qualities: it appears in mourning jewellery, in the blue-and-gold of Forget-Me-Not Societies, in personal correspondence as the flower to deploy when what needed to be said was simply: I have not forgotten you<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n For those for whom this day carries that weight, a small pot of forget-me-nots \u2014 given without excessive explanation \u2014 says the thing that nothing else quite says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What to look for:<\/strong> As a growing pot plant, not a cut flower. Plant it out after the day; it will seed itself and return.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The gift that keeps giving \u2014 literally<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Found in:<\/em> Global, with particular strength in East Asian markets and the contemporary luxury segment<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Phalaenopsis<\/em> \u2014 the moth orchid, now available in every supermarket and garden centre \u2014 has been one of the commercial floriculture success stories of the past 30 years. Until the 1990s, orchids were the preserve of specialist collectors. Dutch greenhouse technology and Taiwanese tissue culture propagation changed all that, producing plants of genuine beauty at accessible price points.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The orchid’s case for Mother’s Day is practical as much as symbolic. A well-cared-for Phalaenopsis<\/em> blooms for up to three months, rests, and then reblooms \u2014 potentially for years, potentially for decades. A plant given this Sunday may still be flowering in 2035, its annual return a small seasonal reminder of the occasion of its giving. No cut flower offers this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In Chinese cultural tradition, the orchid is one of the Four Gentlemen of scholarly painting, associated with refined inner virtue and modest beauty. The supermarket Phalaenopsis<\/em> and the literati orchid of classical Chinese painting are not quite the same thing, but they are the same plant, and the associations travel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What to look for:<\/strong> Repot from plastic into a simple ceramic pot before giving if you can. White or pale pink for classic elegance; deep purple or yellow for something more striking. Include a care note: water once a week, indirect light, do not overwater. When it stops blooming, keep it \u2014 it will bloom again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n One celebration. Eight very different expressions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \ud83c\uddfa\ud83c\uddf8 United States<\/strong> \u2014 Second Sunday of May. The commercial heartland of the modern holiday, generating $2.9bn in flower spending annually. Carnations in historical tradition; roses now dominant in commercial floristry. Anna Jarvis, the holiday’s founder, despised what it became. She was right to. Give carnations this year and explain why.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \ud83c\uddec\ud83c\udde7 United Kingdom<\/strong> \u2014 Fourth Sunday of Lent (Mothering Sunday), typically in March. An older, liturgically anchored tradition distinct from the American commercial holiday, though the two have largely merged in practice. Original gift was wildflowers gathered from hedgerows on the walk home. Daffodils, primroses, violets: whatever the March countryside offered. Most people now buy from shops. The gap between those two things is worth thinking about.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \ud83c\uddf0\ud83c\uddf7 South Korea<\/strong> \u2014 8th of May (Parents’ Day, Eomeoni nal<\/em>). Both parents honoured simultaneously. Carnations pinned directly to parents’ chests \u2014 a gesture of physical directness that transforms a passive gift into an active one. More honest about what the flower is actually trying to say than almost any other national tradition.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \ud83c\uddef\ud83c\uddf5 Japan<\/strong> \u2014 Second Sunday of May (Hahanohi<\/em>). American-influenced, adapted to Japanese aesthetic sensibility. Flowers chosen with reference to hanakotoba<\/em> \u2014 the language of flowers \u2014 so that the recipient can read a specific meaning rather than a general one. Lilies, chrysanthemums, and roses in culturally specific colours. The act of choosing a flower that says something particular, rather than something generic, is a form of respect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \ud83c\udde8\ud83c\uddf3 China<\/strong> \u2014 Second Sunday of May (Muqin Jie<\/em>). Peonies are the culturally resonant choice, available at the tail of the Luoyang festival season. Carnations adopted from Western influence; chrysanthemums from the domestic tradition. The peony’s associations \u2014 abundance, wealth, the full expression of generosity \u2014 make it the most appropriate choice for a culture that reads the effort of the gift as part of the gift.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \ud83c\uddf2\ud83c\uddfd Mexico<\/strong> \u2014 10th of May (D\u00eda de las Madres<\/em>). One of the world’s most exuberant maternal celebrations. Mariachi bands in the morning. Enormous quantities of roses and gladioli carried through the streets. Family gatherings that last all day. The flower here is a public declaration of love rather than a private gift, displayed rather than presented, shared with the neighbourhood as much as with the individual. There is something to be said for this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \ud83c\udde6\ud83c\uddfa Australia<\/strong> \u2014 Second Sunday of May. Celebrated in the southern hemisphere autumn. The chrysanthemum is the dominant flower by seasonal availability. Known colloquially as chrysanthemum day. Large armfuls of yellow and pink chrysanthemums, placed generously in wide ceramic vessels, are the appropriate response to the occasion and the flower.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \ud83c\uddf3\ud83c\uddf5 Nepal<\/strong> \u2014 Mata Tirtha Aunshi<\/em>, the New Moon of the Mothers (April\u2013May). The world’s oldest continuous maternal flower offering, conducted at the sacred pond of Mata Tirtha in the Chandragiri hills west of Kathmandu. Flower petals released onto the water for deceased mothers; flowers offered at the riverside for the living. The gesture has been performed at this place for more than 1,500 years. In terms of continuity of tradition, everything else in this guide is recent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We know. Sometimes the timing doesn’t work out. The flight was delayed. The week got away from you. You find yourself in a terminal with 45 minutes before you have to be somewhere, and the flower kiosk by the departures gate is what’s available.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Here is the honest assessment: airport flowers are not terrible. They are typically better than nothing. They represent, at minimum, that you remembered and made some effort within the constraints of your situation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What to do with what you’ve got:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Choose the most fragrant option available. Lilies, if they have them, will fill a room for days. Roses, if you can find ones that actually smell of something. Avoid pre-made mixed bouquets in cellophane with ribbon and glitter \u2014 the packaging is doing the work instead of the flowers, which is a bad sign.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ask for the freshest stock. The flowers nearest the back of the refrigerated display have been there less time. Ask when the delivery came in. Some airport florists will tell you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n If the only option is carnations: this is not a problem. See above. The carnation is the original Mother’s Day flower, it has a history worth knowing, and if you take 60 seconds to tell the story of Anna Jarvis and the 500 white carnations in West Virginia in 1908, the flower will arrive with context that makes it the most interesting gift in the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Three things to carry in your hand luggage, just in case:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n A small packet of wildflower seeds. Takes up no space. Suggests a person who thinks ahead. Can be given with a note about where to plant them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A folded piece of paper with something written on it. Anna Jarvis wanted a handwritten letter. She was right. A folded note in your own handwriting, tucked into whatever flowers you find, transforms the transaction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The knowledge of what the flowers mean. This guide is here. The knowledge is now yours. Use it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Before the flower reaches the florist, the supermarket, the airport kiosk, or the corner shop, it passes through hands that most consumers never think about.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Kenya’s Rift Valley is the engine of Europe’s cut flower supply. The greenhouses that ring Lake Naivasha \u2014 stretching toward the Aberdare mountains in long glass rows \u2014 employ approximately 200,000 people directly. The majority are women. They work in conditions that vary significantly across the industry, though Fairtrade certification has raised standards substantially on participating farms: living wages, healthcare, school fee support for workers’ children.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Colombia’s Bogot\u00e1 Savanna, sitting at 2,600 metres in the Andes, produces approximately 60% of the carnations sold in the United States. The altitude \u2014 cool nights, bright days \u2014 is ideal for carnation growing, and the farms that cover the savanna run at full capacity in the weeks before Mother’s Day, with all leave cancelled and shifts extended.<\/p>\n\n\n\n These are the people on whose labour the global gesture rests. They are, in the majority of cases, mothers themselves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Choosing Fairtrade where it’s available \u2014 the certification is carried on the packaging and clearly labelled in most UK supermarkets \u2014 is the simplest way to ensure that your gesture honours not just the mother you’re giving to, but the mothers whose work made the giving possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The most expensive flowers in this guide are the peonies. The most valuable ones may be the wildflowers gathered from a hedgerow, or the sweet peas grown from seed saved from the previous summer, or the daffodil bulb lifted from a garden that a grandmother planted and pressed into a grandchild’s hands with the instruction to plant it somewhere it can stay.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The original British Mothering Sunday flower was free. Children walking home along country lanes picked whatever they found: violets, primroses, early daffodils. The flowers were chosen by an untrained eye with no commercial guidance and presented with the confidence that what had been found was exactly right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That confidence was not misplaced. A flower given in love is a flower given in love, regardless of what the cold chain paid for it or what the marketing copy says about it. The dandelion presented by a four-year-old with absolute conviction of its perfection is as fully a Mother’s Day flower as the most carefully sourced peony. The conviction is the gift.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This is what Anna Jarvis was trying to say. It got a bit buried under the $2.9 billion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nWHERE IT ALL BEGAN<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n
West Virginia, USA<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nTHE FLOWERS<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n
The White Carnation<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nThe Rose<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nThe Tulip<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nThe Chrysanthemum<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nThe Peony<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nThe Lily<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nThe Forget-Me-Not<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nThe Orchid<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nAROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHT MOTHER’S DAYS<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nIF YOU’RE BUYING AT THE AIRPORT<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nTHE PEOPLE WHO GROW THEM<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nTHE ONES THAT COST NOTHING<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\n