Pride & Determination: The Little Amaryllis that Could

   

Every Christmas, my aunt and uncle send us a beautiful amaryllis. It comes in a brown box, and the bulb is tucked into the soil, safely nestled in a little pot. This winter, it arrived a bit late; due to our move and the fact that we'd been in Florida for Christmas, we didn't actually receive the flower until around the time of losing our little Blueberry. As a result, in the midst of our pain and confusion, we gave it a quick spritz of water and set it on top of the refrigerator to fend for itself.


Several weeks later, Jeff reached into the fridge one night and laughed. When I turned around, he pointed up; our little bulb had huge green leaves that were brushing the ceiling! We offered the little plant a bit more water and placed it on the kitchen table to give it more room to grow. If we're honest, we were fairly certain the cats would eat it or knock it over, but we just didn't have the energy to do anything more for it.


Just a week after that, our first bloom sprouted. And then another. We turned it towards the window, sharing the beauty with our neighbors who strolled by, walking their dogs or playing with their little ones. The cats investigated but didn't attack, and we watched with great joy as the petals opened more each day. When they began to fade, we could hardly be sad--what a beautiful life our little flower had had, and what joy it had given us!


And then, before we had time to consider what to do with the pot and bulb, we noticed a new bud. And then another. And then two more! Suddenly, that tiny plant--the thing we'd barely had the energy to offer care and love to--had rewarded us with four beautiful blossoms! We watched in awe as they opened, turning the pot daily, watering it more attentively, shoeing Rosie away from the leaves. For the first time, this was our miracle, and we were prepared to defend and nurture it at all costs.


When those four buds left, we waved them goodbye without sadness. What a blooming season we'd had! And then, many weeks later, as I was about to move the bulb into a bag for hibernation, Jeff startled me one evening by announcing, "Did you see our new bud?" I raced to the kitchen, and there it was. Our little miracle, bringing us joy one more time.


I'm an English teacher, so I'm supposed to love metaphors and symbols and imagery, but the significance of our little flower blooming bravely throughout one of the darkest winters of our lives is too much for even me to untangle. I only have these final thoughts to offer. The amaryllis is a flower that symbolizes pride, determination, and radiant beauty; its name comes from the Greek "to sparkle."


In the determined beauty of our seven sparkling blooms, I find hope in the radiant beauty of our future.