Many years ago when I was just beginning my journey as a gardener, still "green behind the ears" (pardon the pun but it was just there and I had to use it), I was driving home from work one very hot Friday afternoon and decided to stop at a local Home Depot near my office to see what they had in the Garden Center that might look nice in my brand new garden. Not being very well educated in what would work well for my area of the state, my Zone, as they say, I figured talking to someone who knew plants might help.
As I walked around the Garden Center, I saw all sorts of beautiful, flowering plants and luscious shrubs, but what caught my eye was a large cart that held a mountain of dead or dying plants just waiting to be taken out back and dumped. Right on the top was a large pot holding something that looked like it was on its last legs ... or stems, as it were ... and I felt myself being drawn to it. I took out the little card sticking up out of the pot that told you what kind of plant it was and what its sun and watering needs were. It was a foxglove, a purple foxglove. I loved foxgloves. My heart hurt for this sad plant that was being tossed aside because it wasn't relevant any more. Once it had been a seed full of promise, now it was being discarded because in the eyes of others, it had no worth. I pulled back some of the drying leaves and dug my thumb nail into the stem. Sure enough, I saw green. I picked at a few other spots on the plant and found more green hiding under the brown. I picked up the pot and asked the guy watering the plants if I could have the foxglove.
"Sorry, ma'm, but that plant is on the garbage pile to be dumped out back for compost."
"Well, then, can I just take it instead of making you dump it? You'll be rid of it either way."
The man said that he'd have to check with the manager since he didn't think I could just take it out of the store without paying something for it even if it was headed for compost. He returned a few minutes later and said: 'You can have it for $3.00, but I think it's a waste of money," So I paid the $3.00 and headed out.
I had a 40 minute drive on a very hot, late afternoon with no working AC in my old car, so I stopped at the nearest dollar store and picked up a large bucket and two gallons of water. I put the plant in the back seat, emptied one of the gallons of water on the plant to submerge it, and drove like hell with all the windows open. When I got home, I added the second gallon to totally submerge the plant, put it in the least sunny spot for overnight, and told it I wasn't ready to give up on it yet. The next day I emptied some of the water until it was just at the right depth to let the leaves dry out but keep the roots moist and put it in the sun. On Sunday, I took it out and planted it. In two weeks it had established itself and was actually standing up on its own without staking. In three weeks I had big, beautiful, purple bell-shaped flowers that I swear were smiling.
We get to a certain age in life where we begin to feel irrelevant. We start out in life so full of promise and dreams for the future, then suddenly, before we know it, we look in the mirror and see this strange, old person staring back at us. People start to treat us differently when we're sporting grey hair instead of brown, and wrinkles where once our skin had been smooth and luminous. There are even times when people don't seem to see us at all. So what's the cure for people who no longer feel relevant? The same as it was for that foxglove: water, breathe, nurture, and plant in the sunshine. Feed and water yourself with positive thoughts, eat healthy and drink lots of water, get out in the sunlight (okay, take the sunscreen but you know what I mean), and smile ... lots and lots of smiling. Find something that brightens your spirit and sparks your curiosity. Pretty soon people will no longer be seeing grey hair and wrinkles. They'll be asking themselves: "What does she know that I don't, and how do I get some?" That's when you tell them: " Go plant a flower and smile."
And so it is.
