A Lesson in Championship By Tamara Gregory
M
y daughter was already certain that she wanted pink, red, yellow, and white flowers in her garden. I supported her vision entirely. Each week was an opportunity to create a more vibrant space in her tiny garden.
We were super excited to find chrysanthemums (MUMS) in the garden section. Not only were they vibrant yellow but the foliage was full and lush and green. We spent time trying to find the plant that had the most flowers already bloomed as well as tiny buds that would bloom later. We wanted a rich full garden; not one that was sparse and bare. We finally found the perfect plant and was so in awe of her beauty, we decided to get another in a rich wine color to adorn our doorsteps. When we arrived home we potted, planted, fertilized, and watered the mums. Boy were they a sight to behold, big and bright and full of life. It was hard to imagine that such a tiny force of life could positively impact everything in its environment …but it did. As the days went on the flowers bloomed and continued to provide a warm welcome to us each day as well as anyone else that crossed our threshold. The yellow ones that we planted also thrived and seemed untouchable even by the slugs who chewed on whatever they wanted. My daughter took great pride in her garden and each morning as she left for school, would call out to her father “Make sure you water my flowers ok dad!” More than being in awe of this beautiful space we had created; it warmed my heart to see my beautiful one so delighted. I also loved the time we were able to spend weeding, tilling, and learning together. I looked around and declared, “This is good!” Even with all the admiration in the world, it takes more than mere satisfaction and flattery to sustain life. Two weeks later our beautiful chrysanthemums were completely blackened; the flowers had dried up and the leaves were burnt. It was a devastatingly, strange contrast; the foliage of the plant remained a bright rich green. It seemed so full of life and yet, all that it had once borne was dried up and dead. I wondered if it was because there was too much direct sunlight or if I had given it too much plant food. It was clear I did not know enough about this plant to try to save it. That day, I learned another especially important lesson from My Daughter’s Garden; continued growth requires wisdom over time and the desire to learn more than you already claim to know. A champion is one who has defeated or surpassed all odds; a survivor; a winner. After my mums’ unfortunate demise, I placed the ones in the pot in my backyard and decided I would later dig the ones from the garden up and place them in the garbage. I delayed my decision momentarily because, also planted with the mum were Spikes. In a thriving twist of irony, the thin almost dried blades of the spikes (which were half dead when we planted them) began to come alive and become green and stood tall and proud right there in that pot with my burnt Chrysanthemums. I had often passed by homes and admired the spikes in the floral arrangements of others. They were nothing but blades of grass. They do not color nor flower, but they bring an indescribable dynamic to the area in which they are planted. I had searched all our local nurseries in a bid to find them, but they were all sold out as it was so late in the season. I finally found one that
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appeared fit only for kindle but…the heart wants what it wants and so brown or not, it found a place in my home. As I said earlier, I placed the pot in my back yard and though I had already committed the mums to the graveyard, I didn’t want to uproot my spikes as it had been such a rare find, and so by default, they also were watered along with it. My mother has often said to me, when I was younger, “in the midst of life there is death.” I was finally able to see a real-life reference right there in My Daughters’ Garden. The spikes that were dead when planted and the flourish mums had traded places. Though the mums were dying, the spikes fought and succeeded in becoming alive. I am unsure which plant drew virtue from the other as there was a point when the both appeared to be dead, but they fought to thrive. A month later, as I observed the garden one morning before leaving for work, I noticed that the mums had two tiny green buds hidden among the blackened leaves and dead flower heads. Suddenly, I had a revelation. I asked my husband to pull off every blackened bud, flower, and leaf from those mums with the hope that perhaps new life would also spring up in that place. As I look at the picture laid before me …a pile of blackened matter on the ground with the occasional piece of greenery, I realized how easy it is to bury something that is not dead. I am reminded of a bible story of the bones of a prophet being thrown in a grave with other dead bones and those bones became alive. The question was asked “can these bones live?” and they did. Often, we have seen people written off (or may have been written off ourselves) because they have experienced rough times or may have been devastated to the point of being dried up with nothing left to give. Broken, crumbling people, discarded by those who have walked away without even a single second thought. Another lesson that I learned from My Daughter’s Garden is there is life within you yet. No matter the devastation, you are not dead. Allow no one (not even yourself) to bury you. No matter what happens to you, there must be a champion within you that must choose only to live. Fight! No matter the challenge, resist the urge to shrivel up and die. Surround yourself with light and life, draw close to those things and those people who are filled with nourishment and are willing to nurture you to thrive. Find yourself a spike to rest next to and draw virtue from it, as you wait to bear the fruit of life and show the world you are indeed A Champion once again.
