The Place of Small Things

        You can't miss it when you drive by. There's Berdoll Pecan Candy and there is a 14.5 foot squirrel statue. They say everything's bigger in Texas and the residents are justly proud of their penchant for the large and awesome: big hair, big BBQ grills, big cowboy hats, big stadiums and big hearts. Yet lately, I've been contemplating the essential nature of  small things.

     Turning over the garden soil you see all kings of earthworms. I work around them gently and send them on their way. Earthworms breakdown dead plant materials and produce on the spot fertilizer. Their tunnels channel  air and water to roots. Tiny frogs eat pesky insects and provide food for larger birds. The tiny hummingbird spreads pollen as it flits from flower to flower sipping nectar. Energetic squirrels harvest many nuts but only retrieve a portion. Unclaimed nuts help repopulate the forest. All these little creatures work together in a bigger ecosystem. The same can be said for the little words and gestures that we put out into our world everyday.

     St Therese of  Lisieux, known as The Little Flower, wrote extensively on the beauty of little things.  She  is known for her spirituality or "little way."  She said, " Miss no opportunity of making some small sacrifice, here by a smiling look, there by a kindly word; always doing the smallest right and doing it all for love." She saw the world as the Lord's garden. She saw herself as a simple, little wildflower unnoticed by the world but giving glory to God in her own way. She felt that just as all flowers had their own beauty, each soul had its own role and beauty. To her, the whiteness of the lily and the splendor of the rose "do not take away the perfume of the violet or the simplicity of the daisy."

     The little way is all around us even in a modern world:  The grocery clerk who always blesses his customers; The barista who acknowledges customers in a long line; Fellow plant lovers chatting at the nursery; A stranger giving up his seat; The nurse rocking a lonely, sick baby; A child's painting hanging proudly on the refrigerator; The wife preparing healthy food for her ailing husband; A little boy bringing ginger ale to a sick mommy; The husband filling his wife's car with gas; A young soldier sharing water on a long hike.
      Small gestures illuminate the ecosystem of  humanity's heart. No thoughtfulness is too small. There is no tiny miracle. There is no insignificant kindness. Our task is to simply see what is in front of us and make our little corner of the world just a little better.

The Habit of Love

     Two very different women love the same man: One is younger, one is older. Though separated by years, culture and expression, they share roots. The elder is Korean, with porcelain skin and tiny stature. Her diminutive physical frame belies a feisty personality and hardworking spirit. She is stubborn and clever, qualities that helped her thrive as a military wife with three children. The children are her world, her heart. She blesses them with gifts: the latest clothes, lessons, a comfortable home, and a respect for hospitality. One by one, the children leave to walk their own paths and the small woman, with the big heart, goes outside to the garden.

     In the yard, miracles are a daily event. Buds bloom, birds sing, lemons the size of grapefruits scent the air, and peaches appear at just the right time. Heavy concrete lanterns  nestle among the jade plants and whimsical statues play hide and seek. There are shaded areas to sit and drink coffee or read, a swimming pool for grandchildren, a picnic table for outdoor breakfasts. She moves tirelessly among the plants, pruning, watering, fertilizing and nourishing beauty. The exhausted younger women watches, but does not see.

     The younger woman is Caucasian, freckled and average in height. Her quick smile belies a stubborn streak that is deep and wide. Her college education was hard fought, and this kind of persistence allows her to flourish as a military wife. She uses her medical knowledge to push her son over health hurdles. Creativity and determination teach him to read. She reiterates that people are more important than things and that humans are nature's keepers. Little by little, he needs her less and less. Though she realizes that this was always the goal, the heartache surprises her.

     She gently plucks the yellow leaves away, settles the rose bush, fertilizes it and sits back on her heels. A hummingbird drinks from the feeder. The woman smiles at the beauty of the scene. Comfy chairs for wine or coffee sit waiting on the porch. The fountain bubbles welcome for birds and pansies nod in the breeze. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she sees the older woman tending the plants. Something in her heart cracks. She realizes that two very different women share more than one thing in common. After years of pouring love into children and home, love became a habit.

     Adult children need less and less tending. Parents strive to make children self-sufficient, yet when they are, it can leave a need to nurture. In the garden, careful attention is still needed. Different plants have different needs. There are rotating seasons for planting, harvesting and quiet regeneration. Sitting on the warm ground, surrounded by plants, the young woman finds herself in her mother in law's garden and the eyes of her heart see clearly.

Don't Over Water the Cacti

Please pay attention! We will let you know what we need.

         Yellowing leaves, sad, drooping stalks, my succulents cowered on the porch. As a novice gardener, I thought these cries meant "Water please!" The cacti were actually screaming "Shrink from the woman with the watering can" and "Avoid her gaze!" You can over water succulent plants. These beauties need to be settled in a well draining pot and thoroughly watered until draining through. The soil should be dry to the touch before watering again. Depending on the season, this may be once a week or more. Watering, trimming, replanting, turning--there are different kinds of care that plants need. People also need different kinds of nurturing. This can be one of the trickiest parts of parenting.

Hey lady! Lose the watering can!

       The human body is roughly 60% water. Our brains are 70 to 75% water. We need water to lubricate our joints, ease digestion, flush our toxins, boost our immune system and much more. We need love to survive too. Human touch is linked to increased neural development, happiness, immunity, and  emotional balance. Relationships infuse our lives with meaning and our neural pathways with vibrancy.  As children mature they need different kinds of nurturing to flourish.
     The same careful tending that worked when my son was school aged has given way to guidance and tough love. He's a young man now; he is responsible for his own growth and development. I offer advice when asked. Occasionally I send up a flare if real danger is imminent. Other than that, I practice saying "I know you'll make a good decision" and the increasingly popular "What do you think?" This is harder than it sounds, but I realize that doing too much for him will not serve him. A young adult needs to stand on their own and sink their roots. With the right blend of love, humor, and a generous covering of prayer, parenting young adults does yield rewards. The rewards are not immediate, but as any gardener knows, patience pays off. Don't over water the cacti.

   

Easy with the H2O!

Different plants need different care

Blossoms Are Not The Only Beauty

     Cool breeze, cornflower sky,  puffs of forgiving cloud and a gentle 73 F: Fall in Texas. I was genuinely grateful for the break in temperature. My persistent wish for sweatshirt weather seemed unreasonable and unnecessary. I knelt in the grass and made a plan for the fall pansies. As I scanned the garden, a glint of periwinkle caught my eye.

     The newly planted greenery was bursting with icy purple blue blossoms and something more. Tiny buds like unfurled fingers rested on the bush. The tightly wrapped buds circled with their neighbors and formed exquisite, surprising stars.

   The word "bud" as a noun is defined as the undeveloped part of a plant. The phrase "Nipped in the bud" means halted at the beginning of  development. How many times have I focused on the blossom, or goal, instead of witnessing the beauty along the way? The answer: Most of the time. As a mother, I am a devoted potential monitor. I see the development. I celebrate the progress. I treasure every season. First steps, first friends, reading, bike rides, car drives, graduation, disappointments, triumphs, they circle round to form a life.
     My life is no different. As my son creates his own life, I find myself in a new season. There were seasons where I poured all my resources and spirit into my child's dreams. It's time for me to honor the budding stages of my own life. I can learn new things, create art, care for my spirit. I used to think that I was looking for my path. Now I realize that I have always been on it. Motherhood is an essential part of my heart constellation; it taught me the meaning of unconditional love. Instead of criticizing myself for careers not chosen, roads not taken and projects unfinished, my path is one of  beauty in the journey. Just as the seasons promise transformation in nature, seasons of life signal changes in us. I claim the bud stage. Blossoms are not the only beauty.

Every blade of grass has an angel that bends over it and whispers, Grow! Grow! The Talmud