I entered the laundry today.
Within moments – “Oh!”
Shocked. Startled. Amazed beyond belief.
I was moved even.
It was about the Phalaenopsis plant. Rather, to you and me and most Tom, Dick and Nancy’s, the orchid. MY orchid. The plant that had been gifted to us when baby girl was born, the plant I had kept alive… until recently.
Until the move.
I am honestly not sure if it has bloomed since we moved house. Last summer, despite it being next to a window, I don’t recall seeing it blossom once, NOT ONCE… it soon moved to a less prominent position, but still by a window, and still facing the same side of the house as it was before… only it was in a different room. The laundry.
I was hopeful for so long. This plant held ties with baby girl’s arrival. Sure, it’s miraculous to keep these things growing beyond a few years. Plants die, ndoor potted ones more so… I get it.
But this one I COULD NOT LET GO OF.
I watered it. Gave it food. Trimmed some dead leaves and branches from it. With no change and the soil becoming more like sand than dirt, I started to contemplate throwing it away.
Again… I just couldn’t. I left it there in the laundry, facing the window, with dust settling on the leaves… thinking one day, I would do something with it.
I just didn’t know what.
So to walk in today and find this…
What? My orchid was alive? Reborn from brittle soil when I least expected it, its seed lying dormant for the longest time, waiting, just waiting, for the right combination of circumstances to spring forth…
I honestly, clapped with glee. Got teary. I am so glad I didn’t give up.
You all know what this means. I may not throw out a plant now, NEVER EVER EVER.
Because you never know if a seed of hope is lying around somewhere, just waiting.