At the end of August, I planted zinnia seeds in several of my raised beds because it doesn’t really get cool in the Peach State until November and I thought it would be great to have some fresh fall colors. At first, it seemed like none of the seeds took root, which was surprising and a little frustrating because I felt like I planted a lot of them.
Then, to my delight, I found that one in a deep wine color, had sprouted. I was a little disappointed that there was only one. What happened to all of those other seeds? I had become accustomed to having too many blossoms to count out in my garden and endless vases with a kaleidoscope of color all summer. I didn’t even have to put much effort into growing them.
As I examined it closely, I debated whether or not to cut it and bring it inside. In the end, a little nudge told me that I should and sensing there would be a lesson, I complied. I found a simple bottle to put it in and placed it on the counter.
Needless to say, that one single flower was stunning. Like much of Creation, it was a piece of art all on its own, one of those many daily gifts from God, that we rush by and miss in our daily busyness.
As I continued to marvel at it, I felt a reminder that when nothing is blooming in the world around us, one single bloom has the ability to brighten a dark space.
As someone, who has walked through the dark valley of grief this past year, I can attest to that truth. Each single act of kindness was a precious gift, from the meals that were organized, to the cards and phone calls, to every single text that let me know that someone was thinking about me and praying for me. I had a friend that sent me a journal because she knew I write to process things. I had a cousin who brought me a flat of pansies because growing things can soothe the soul. I had a friend who invited me to a Bible study about Heaven. One time, the sweet daughter of one of my lifelong friends, reached over and held my hand as tears were streaming down my face during a praise song at church.
These are just a few examples. There were so many more.
Losing someone we love is hard. Death is hard and messy and the pain that accompanies it makes us uncomfortable . We often don’t know what to say or do, so we choose to say or do nothing. I get it. I too, have been guilty of looking away when I didn’t have the words to say to someone who was suffering great loss. I didn’t think anything I could possibly do or say could make a difference.
I have learned this past year, that I was wrong. Every single simple act of kindness brought comfort to my aching heart and I am so very grateful for each and every one of them. A single zinnia bloom reminded me that we all have the ability to be a blessing to someone who is suffering. Sometimes I need reminding. Perhaps you do too.
Have an awesome day!
Wendy 🙂
Thanks for sharing, this is one of the ways that keeps me going!
You are very caring just like your mother!Keep up the good work.