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Blessed Bloom
From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Hope, Faith & Miracles
By Becky S. Tompkins
There are always flowers for those who want to see them.
~Henri Matisse Green thumbs run in my family, on my mother’s side. It shouldn’t be a surprise, I guess. Her father used to operate a greenhouse. We kids grew up playing on lush green Ohio grass, lined with long, colorful rose and iris beds that separated the back yards in our neighborhood. When Mom planted something, it usually grew.
The acorns didn’t fall far from that oak, and we children turned out to love the earth and growing things in it, too. As adults, we appreciate all our mom’s labor-intensive gardening work, applaud each other’s gardening successes, and commiserate about the frustrations of chipmunks that eat our strawberries or deer that strip our lilies. (Keep reading)
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