The cereus is blooming twice over tonight. We are huddled round the plant, which is some sort of cactus, watching the buds turn from tightly woven pods to starry trumpets and at last to beautiful white flowers. This plant has a special history. It was my grandmother's, and my mother inherited it upon her death some fifteen years ago. It bloomed for the first time only a year ago, and now has a miraculous six buds gracing its succulent stems. Two of them are opening right now, and we are watching the petals move before our eyes, ever so slowly, from cocoon to flower.

It's a lesson from nature in waiting, perseverance, silence, patience, and doubtless a dozen other things the Puritans would better understand than I do.

1 comment:

  1. Amazing! Reminds me of The Bean Trees by Barbara Kingsolver.


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