You came as a gift from a friend, a little shoot in a small plastic pot. We scrupulously followed the enclosed instructions about caring for you, but you shriveled up and died anyway. We had to let you go. Wendy dug a hole and buried you in the garden.
(There are other things I’ve given up on recently, things that I’m mourning. Like the dream that in my lifetime my country can be a place of equal opportunity for all. And the dream that I and my generation will leave this world to our our children in better condition than when we arrived. And all the beautiful animals and plants that are disappearing from the Earth.)
And then, one spring day, there you were, surprising us, amazing us, with your tall stem and beautiful flowers. You hadn’t died after all. You just needed time in the dark soil, awaiting your season. There’s a lesson here. I open my heart to take it in. In my daily prayers I give thanks.
You sustain life with love
You return life to the dead with great compassion
You lift the fallen
You heal the sick
You keep faith with those who are lying in the dust
Blessed are You who brings the dead back to life