I have friends who keep a nice yard and garden around their home. Lots of pretty flowers and shrubs, and a growing vegetable garden. In the front yard, at the end of a fence in a semi-sunny area stands a solitary rose bush. Each season it shows off its yellow blooms with their delicate, pleasant scent. I asked about this rose bush one day. Why just the one? Why over there? I learned that this full rose bush started as a little plant in a small planter, a gift from their son—from the dollar store.
A sweet gift from a loving son who didn’t have much money but wanted to give his mom something for her birthday. I got the sense that no one really expected much out of it, but it was a nice gesture, nevertheless.
A rose bush from a dollar store? Who would have much hope for it, this plant that likely had a less than ideal start in life in a market that offers high volume and oftentimes lower quality for rock bottom prices? I can just see it, crammed in with thousands of others, no special care given to this one. Many would not have made the cut to the truck, let alone all the way to market.
There it was, though, and someone made the selection and brought this one home as a gift. It was appreciated, and planted, and given healthy soil and a little sun and room to blossom. It responds by offering up its beautiful self, year after year.
I think about this a lot. Every time I see it, its lush flowering, I am filled with hope. It’s like this with people, too. Even if the start was far less than ideal, when we give or are given a little room to grow, some appreciation, the nutrients we need to be healthy, we can blossom. I am grateful to those who have offered me these things.