Granny's Flower Garden

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Granny’s Flower Garden



Looking back over the years, reviewing all that has taken place in my life, I am reminded of just how important our lives can be. I have fond and vivid memories of the weekend trips to my Grandmothers house, when I was growing up. Bright and early one October morning, just as the sun was settling in the sky, my grandmother and I were working in the flower garden. We were on our knees with a little hand-held shovel, and a gallon picture of water, breaking up the earth that ran along the length of the concrete wall of her driveway. We were digging little holes making ready to plant the bulbs that she had bought the week before.

I watched in awe as her delicate hands worked through the soil, making sure it was deep enough and free of dead grass and rocks. When the soil was ready, the small bulb was placed in the hole and Granny began to cover it back up with the dirt. My job was to water each bulb as she finished planting, It was fun being able to help her in this small task.

“How long will it take for them to bloom?” I asked her as we gathered the shovel and pitcher we had used and headed back to her porch to sit down for a moment or two before heading back inside the house. She smiled at me and patted my hand, replying lovingly, “It won’t be long”. Every other weekend I watered those holes where the bulbs were planted and watched eagerly for them to bud, because I wanted to see how pretty they were.

Fall came and went, bringing the cold winter and freezing rain and a threat of snow here and there. The changing weather upset me, for all this time not one flower had bloomed. Once again, Granny took my hand and kissed my cheek while whispering softly, “Not too long now.” Granny’s sweet voice was comforting, as we sat within the warmth of her cozy trailer, listening to the howling winds of March.

Finally, spring arrived. Granny was driving me from school to her house and she stopped briefly at the stop sign. Turning to me, she said with a big smile on her face, “There is a surprise for you when we get home.” My eyes widened and my face beamed with excitement as I asked eagerly, “What is it?”. I was not a very patient child at 8, so I asked two or three times and she would only smile. Pulling up along the driveway, I unbuckled my seat belt, threw open the car door, and hurried out to see what my surprise could be.

As I truly looked at the sidewalk for the first time, my eyes sparkled like gems. Long lines of beautifully arrayed flowers stood high, swaying gracefully with the gentle breeze of the wind.
I was so happy for the time we had taken to plant the bulbs, water them, and tend to them. Nurturing them with love and a bit of time from day-to-day, yielded a breathtaking reward. Vibrant, beautiful colors of red, orange, yellow, and purple, mixed with white, filled my gaze. “They’re perfect!” I said to her as I wrapped my arms about her narrow waist, hugging her softly. “We did it!” came the exclamation as I walked down the line where we had planted them. Granny hugged me back and lifted my chin so I looked into her eyes. She said lovingly, “God did it. We just gave it love and nourishment to help it grow.”

I am older now and my Granny has gone to be with the Lord. Each time I see the delicate, fragile flowers of beauty, I am reminded of her. In my heart I feel that once we have the seed of Gods love planted within us, if we love him, we will nurture his love as we would a flower bulb. By reading his word and growing in him spiritually we are growing. When given the chance to spread His love that he gave us, we blossom into a beautiful flower.