Resilience

I am NOT a gardener. Playing in the dirt has never appealed to me, and the whole idea of worms, fertilizer, and mud makes me want to go running inside the house for safety. My mother, however, is a flower fan, so in front of our house, there is a patch of dirt that she plays in every autumn in the hopes of spring bloomings of daffodils, lilies, tulips and other colorful “weeds”. Last week, when winter weather brought snow to our area, my mother expressed sorrow at the potential loss of her budding plants. “They are never gonna make it through this cold weather, and with the snow – yeah, I guess I won’t have any flowers this spring”, she lamented.

Imagine my surprise when I drove into our driveway this afternoon and saw blooming daffodils! A total of five hardy flowers not only survived the storm, but seven days later, brought a smile to my face with their bright yellow bell-shaped flowers. Some were pointing towards the sky, while others had bells that were drooping down towards the ground. There are probably more flowers to come based on the buds on the stems. This will make my mother very happy.

I thought about those daffodils as I later ate my Sabbath dinner. What a testament to their will to survive. Despite the cold weather and the unseasonable snow, they stood tall and fulfilled their purpose in life. Last week, they shivered as the winds buffeted them and the snow blew around them, cooling their roots and freezing their buds. This week, in defiance to what happened in the past, they lifted their heads to the sun and proclaimed, “Yep, I made it through and I’m still standing…so whatcha got to say about that?”

We can be like the daffodils. Buffeted in our daily lives by the strong cold winds of strife, joblessness, family discord, economic struggles – we can be tempted to just bow down, give up and give in. Say, “ok, you win. I’m not gonna fight any more.” Or, we can buckle down and know that eventually the storm will pass over. (Our winter wonderland of snowiness lasted less than 24 hours.) We can hold on to the fact that, while we may be experiencing a “winter” in our lives right now, “spring” is coming. But even before it comes, we can, like the daffodil, lift our heads to the sky and proclaim, “I’m still here and I’m still standing.” It is our choice.

Be blessed.

PS: The picture of the daffodil above is from our yard.
© 2010 Kristina E. Smith