Calla Lilly

For my birthday this year I received a Calla Lilly. Like any mother who gets a crib for her child, I went and got a beautiful big green pot for this baby plant. 

I put her in the soil that would make her happy and every day I would wait and watch. Watering her when she needed it making sure I didn’t overwhelm her. One day there was a tiny shoot and I got so giddy. Her first steps. Then another. And another. Her growth important. I felt confident I could take care of this gift that I aptly named after the person that bequeathed it to me. Gentle souls. 

She sits on my back deck and is now almost 4 feet tall, taller than my daughter. She fills up the entire pot and soon will need a bigger room. 

Every day I check on her. She sometimes says hello to the habanero plant that sits next to her. She dances with the wind. Turns to the sun when the shade gets too cold. She’s always reaching for something bigger than her. Her stalk able to bend with what the day brings. She may be a free spirit but she needs her roots too. 

She’s become the compass to all my plants. Mother to all of them. She stands towering over them, leading the way. A chance at life with tenderness and grace. 

I watch her a lot. She’s visible from many windows. Glimpses into her mystical journey wondering about her lineage I know so little about. She came from somewhere but, I just know her. 

She teaches me that if I’m to withstand what’s in front of me, I must remain flexible. Bend with the tides and the floods. Pay attention to the rains, the sun, and the moon. And I know when the storm comes and she breaks and she will break, she can start again. Rebuild shoot by shoot. Baby steps. Baby steps.