“Absorb His words like rain on parched grass and showers on young plants." ~ Deuteronomy 32:2
When the whispers of winter become
too faint to hear, when Easter’s lullaby begins echoing amid wistful, fragrant
air, we’ve arrived at the first signs of spring. To the keen eye, there are new buds on old
trees and fresh blooms born to a warming earth.
Each spring, the urge to plant something, a flower or
anything that would blossom, pulled at Evie. Clearly, a legacy from her grandmother who’d
once kept a sprawling flower garden; a sanctuary for quiet reflection. The place was as humble as any on earth teeming
with flora that provided the same for bees, hummingbirds, and butterflies zooming
in for a taste of sweet nectar.
Gram’s garden gave its best from when frost still powdered
the ground until late autumn covered it with flaming leaves. Evie believed her grandmother had found the
secret to life itself buried deep in the soft black ground.
There’d been ample space and sunlight for things to grow at Gram’s
house - unlike the city where Evie lived.
No place to grow a single flower in front of her brownstone where angled
cracks only hinted at dirt below and even weeds had a difficult time breaking through. Not inside her tiny dark apartment where the
life-giving sunlight would have to traverse an impossibly long distance just to
reach her filthy windows.
She’d tried that first year; when
hope blossomed and the future seemed full of promise. She’d purchased a clay pot of patio tomatoes
guaranteed to produce plenty of juicy, scarlet fruit. But lacking sufficient sunlight and fresh air,
its green faded brown. By summer’s end,
the tomatoes had shriveled like raisins in the sun.
Tenderly, she’d carry the paper-wrapped bundle down the
dingy subway stairs. The subway platform
could use a bit more art, a bit more flair, anything to lift commuters’ spirits.
Evie surveyed the familiar scene - people scurried by facing
straight ahead – eyes as immobile as their faces – distant, anxious, exhausted.
She began handing out her beautiful stock one at a time to
passersby, enjoying their surprise when she said “Enjoy the Spring.” It was her way of acknowledging that spring
comes as a “lullaby to newly opened ears and hearts.”
Spring reminds us that God makes everything new. Soon leaves will fill the trees, flowers will
burst in vibrant colors, and birds will chirp joyful melodies. Every time we see the signs of a new season,
we are witnessing God’s Words and Promises fulfilled.
