peaceof8

I’m trying not to be too excited or make mountains out of molehills about something that  has NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE for me. 

But…this last Christmas a dear friend (and mother of my oldest son’s wife, so she is double awesome) gave me a poinsettia as a gift. And I am most shocked and immensely pleased to tell you that as I type this post on this Good Friday before Easter, she IS STILL ALIVE! 

Never in my life have I been able to keep a poinsettia alive. I mean sometimes not even through Christmas Day. My kids used to sell them at their school as a fundraiser every year so I always bought a bunch for clients and friends but had to get them out quickly because apparently I was toxic to poinsettias, not the other way around, which according to wikipedia is a false accusation by H.R. Arnold in his book “Poisonous Plants of Hawaii”. Yes, if you consume forty two poinsettia leaves you might throw up or have the runs, because poinsettias are for looking at not eating sillies.  And while the plant was used for  traditional medicine by the Aztecs as a fever reducer, it has never been proven that poinsettias can kill animals or children. That was a total urban legend  started in 1913 when people knew zilch about nada. So you’re welcome if you have been worried you might kill your cat by having this beautiful Mexican Flame Flower in your house. He or she might barf, but cats do that anyway, right? 

So what is my point to this plant that I have yet to kill, named after botanist Joel Roberts Poinsett, who was also the first US Minister to Mexico? It’s not at all about Mexico. Or about the sordid lies told about this poor misunderstood plant that was forced into US greenhouses when maybe it just wanted to stay in Central America and not be mass produced and commercialized at Christmas only to be tossed in the trash by people like me along with the sad, dead Christmas trees. 

My point is that MAYBE just MAYBE this is an Easter Miracle. My own little personal gift of life. I’m finally at a place, after helping coax a bunch of babies into awesome adults, where I have time to pay attention to other life-giving things, like remembering to water my plants! I had no expectations of Christine (yes I have named her now)  but when I brought her home, I put her by Stella, my spider plant thinking maybe they could be companions. Together they sit in communion, in front my office window, up high where the cats and dogs can’t get them, because I really hate barf and also tend to have a hard time shedding urban rumors.  Christine seems to be basking in her space where sun comes in every morning and kisses her hello. Her blossoms are small now but she is growing new leaves and appears to be flourishing. 

What I know is that when I do my little part in this life and pay attention to the soft whispers telling me: ‘where there is love there is hope,’ I will continue to see life flourish in the most unexpected ways, like an Easter Poinsettia Named Christine. 

Happy Easter!