In 1961, in a small town in rural Michigan, a first-grade teacher helped her students fill paper cups with dirt and plant a begonia seed in each cup. I was in that class. We set our paper cups on the sun-drenched windowsill of our classroom and, in between learning East from West and North from South and memorizing “1 plus 1” and “1 plus 2”, we looked on as tiny green shoots slowly appeared in those wet cups.
When Mother’s Day came around, I took my very own present home to my mother: a scrawny begonia plant in a moist paper cup. The plant had a small orange flower with yellow stamens, as I recall, atop several scraggly jointed stems.
Never before, and never since, have I felt so amazed by the miraculous power of organic life. I had stuck a cold dead thing in a cup of dirt. And now I had my very own living plant with a real live flower on the end of it, to take home to my Mother.
Over 60 years later, this past weekend my daughter Elizabeth went to a Mother’s Day program at the Montessori school in which Elijah (three) and Hanah (five) are enrolled.
Elijah and Hanah glowed with happiness and joy, I hear, as they showed their mother the different stations in the room and worked with her at each one. Then, after circle time, they each presented her with a miraculous gift of their own: a living little plant with yellow flowers, in a clay pot.
How vibrant is the joy of a child. What a pure and innocent happiness, to be able to give a living flower to the parent who has showered you with love.
Julia Cameron in her book The Artist’s Way says that inside each one of us there is a creative child, just as vulnerable, innocent and in need of care as my grandchildren are now, or as I was when I was in first grade. Just like a physical child, Julia writes, this artistic, creative child inside each one of us needs a “hero,” someone who sees the potential within us, someone who loves and nurtures us so we can thrive and grow and give our own unique offering to the world.
My mother is no longer here to give flowers to, but as I think about Mother’s Day this year, there are in my life several heroes/mothering people I want to recognize. This Mother’s Day I am writing thank you notes (pretty ones, with flowers on the cover 😊) to those wonderful people who have out of the goodness of their own giving hearts, loved me, encouraged me, and supported me when I was struggling. They have been encouraging mothers to that fragile creative child within me, and I am very grateful.
This Mother’s Day, perhaps it is your time to send a scrawny begonia to that mothering-hero of yours… to call or write to tell them how much their words of encouragement or praise meant to you when you were struggling.
This is a day when we honor mothers. But it also a day to honor all those who mother us, we who behind lanky legs and grownup faces are still so often vulnerable and unsure. It is a day to be grateful for those who may not be our physical mothers but who love and support us as if they were, who reach out to take our hands as we walk through the hard times in our lives.