The rose plant that I have in a pot perched on my balcony is a story of survival. It flowered, grew, withered, sprouted and just about survived. But it’s time had probably come. The branches were withered and the leaves were dry or unhealthy. I was willing to let go of it. I did the occasional pruning and deadwooding, but not regularly. I watered it nonchalantly almost everyday. It didn’t look heàlthy and its days seemed to be numbered. But it had its own plans and over the last few days a small bud appeared on a delicate branch. I saw 2 bright new twigs with leaves sprout out of drying stems.
For unseen by me, my mom was carefully adding her home made mulch, egg shells and tea leaves regularly while she aerated the soil with her aging hands. It was quite a task for her, but she had not given up and had made it her little balcony activity everyday.
So there you see it – a pretty rose proudly holding itself up to the sun. And if you peer closer you’ll see a fresh leafy twig jumping out of a branch deep beneath – you’ll miss it if you don’t look carefully. So the rose plant lives on because someone unseen cares about it – someone who didn’t expect any credit for her work, but smiles beautifully as she sees the rose bloom.
And today let that story of my rose plant give you the hope you need to plod through another day, another week, another month, another year and even more.