My Thumb is Turning Green!

I did it!  I finally kept a plant alive!  Look!

I have killed more plants than I care to admit.  (I think my problem is that I tend to over-water them.)  When the guys at church passed these flowers out to all the girls on Mother's Day, though, I was determined to keep my little plant growing.

One day passed, and it was already starting to look sad.  The lone flower at the top turned a slight brown, and the petals began to crumple.  Instead of giving up, I watered it only when the soil was dry and made sure I put it on the kitchen windowsill every morning.  Every day after work, I checked to see that it was still alive.  I was a little worried about it when I went to Dallas for a day, but on coming home, I saw that another delicate flower had blossomed during my absence.  I can't remember the last time I was so pleased.  That's when I realized why people love to garden.

Carrie, my last Atlanta roommate, is one of the smartest people I know.  She reads books well, and she reads people well.  She is practical and talented in all sorts of ways -- so much so, that she reminds me of those accomplished women in Austen novels.  She sews, plays the piano, fights epidemics, and I know not what!  She also spends a significant amount of time cultivating her land.  That's right; she owns a house.  She does all the landscaping and gardening, and it was so fascinating to watch the front and back yards change over time because of her handiwork.  I always wondered, though, why she spent so much time doing something that seemed so boring.  "Why would anyone," I thought, "find pleasure in something like watering plants every day?"

And yet, there had to be something to it.  My mom grew roses and tulips in the flowerbed in front of my childhood home.  My friends Michelle and Alissa and Heather made a living by tending to plants.  What was the fuss about?

I've decided the fuss is about helping something flourish.  There is a small place somewhere in the tissues of my heart that jumped a little with excitement each time I came home and my plant was not only alive but thriving.  It feels good, and it feels important.

I think this is the beginning of a favorite hobby . . .


Thing I'm thankful for: a good day at work