Gentle with Nanny
“Gentle with Nanny’s plant!” said my daughter gently to my little granddaughter, “It’s alive! It wants to live.”
“Never mind,” I said as a large fuzzy green African violet leaf snapped off in her tiny hand. “We’ll grow a new plant from this leaf.”
Finally, after about eight weeks the tiniest beginning of a new leaf began to emerge from the base of the old one. During the next couple of months a small whorl of new light green leaves slowly developed. Much time and patience produce a healthy new plant. A miracle of new birth!
Watering this new plant one day I was perturbed. There, pushing up cheekily beside the African Violet, I saw a seedling. It was stealing nourishment and space from my baby! I pulled it out and threw into the compost.
A week or two later two seedlings had sprung up in its place! “You are persistent,” I thought. “You really want to grow, don’t you?” Then, I remembered the words my daughter had spoken to her baby.
Gently, I eased the plants out of the pot, separated the rogue plants from the African Violet and cared for the three plants, each in their own separate pot.
The internet informed me that my “rogue” plants were pepper plants that promised a delicious crunchy addition to my salad sometime in the future.
Now, months later, I remember when that African Violet leaf snapped off in my granddaughter’s fingers, and I look back at different times in my life when unexpected events left me devastated. At those times I thought I would never get over them, and, in truth, life is different now because of those events. I am no different to anyone else. Each one of us experiences events that knock us off balance emotionally. Time goes by and we recover. Something new grows out of the disappointment. It takes time and patience, yet the miracle occurs.
Then, too, other plants like to take root and flourish in the newly turned soil of disappointment, anger and despair. Rogue plants of revenge, cynicism or hopelessness. I must sort them. Some new ways of thinking are for the rubbish heap to be burned; there are places and mind spaces I need to avoid. Other new ways of thinking need room to grow, nourishment and water; these are places and mind spaces I need to frequent.
Now, my pepper plants are strong, stretching up towards the sun and drinking deeply of fresh water each morning. Tight little flower buds have sprouted. Will I have fresh peppers for my salad before the biting cold of frost? Will I be delighted or disappointed?
I don’t know, but this journey of seeing growth has been enjoyable and satisfying.
“And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.”
Philippians 4:8 (NLT)
by Andrea Kidd
