Tags
Aging, Christmas Cactus, Everyday Life, In the Kitchen, Lent, Oklahoma Gardening, Soul Care, Story Telling, Writing
It’s a late bloomer, this Christmas Cactus of mine. But I can’t mind too awful much. I may be its downfall, for making its everyday life too sweet for a more timely blooming.
You see, only in December did I learn, when others were blooming and mine was not, that a Christmas Cactus sometimes requires a little taste of drought and darkness to bring it to its blooming senses. Mine had never suffered such harsh realities — no, it did not. Instead, it was a sunbathing fool, living it up next to my kitchen sink. Why, with all that abundant light and delicious water it received during its first year in its new home, my little cactus child must have sensed it would grow up fat and happy and live forever, without need of producing a single bloom… either to reproduce its own species … or share its own particular brand of beauty with the world…
Thank God, it’s never too late to learn important life lessons. And good it is, that everyday life seems ever ready to serve up just-in-time lessons: Live and learn; Learn and live. Yes, woe to me…if I don’t live and learn lessons from my little Lenten cactus. After going on a water and sunshine diet for most of January, my wilderness teacher offered up s single perfect bloom this week, all creamy white and long with a hot pink stamen.
Gorgeous in its solitude. Gorgeous for its solitude.
And by the looks of it, a lonely-only bloomer it may stay; a single short parable maybe all this late boomer will produce this month.
But I don’t mind. Even though it’s bloomin’ late, my single-bloom cactus leaves me with enough lessons to ponder this liturgical season.