Soft Morning Kisses
By Sylvia Fox Bevan
What a beautiful thing it is to see the auburn sun come up and kiss the tender little greenhouse plants, as if to say “good morning my darlings” and they respond by reaching their delicate little leaves up in hopes of getting a hug from the one who gives them life.
Such care and love is given to each and every seedling whether they be practical or supposedly impractical in their purpose. The “edibles” say, oh, we provide a purpose, what do you “do”. Flowers, for some, seem a waste and a lot of work just for the sake of being “pretty”. Who are we to judge the value of a good seed? Who are we to say “you are not of any use, you are just pretty, and therefore you are vein”, yet, that seed was just being the best seed, and grow into the healthiest plant that it was designed by it’s creator to be. It was just simply fulfilling it’s destiny, it’s reason for being planted to the best of it’s ability.
And why is it that with all the care, love and attention that the nice little seedlings get, they are still yet so tender! They are protected, and nurtured along every step of the way, and still, yet, some just don’t make the journey to “plant hood”. Yet weeds get starved, plucked out, no attention, run over and trampled 4 or 5 times and still they grow!
Then there are the plants that seem like weeds, in one area, and yet, in their ideal environment become the pillars of the nutrient chain! So neglected and unwanted in the greenhouse is this little “labelled” weed, almost destroyed a few times, and some of his kind were already plucked out with the unrealized and misunderstood potential of this tender little plant.
If only he could be transplanted to a least have the opportunity to become who he really is meant to be! Every “fibre” of his being says “please let me be who I am designed to be… please let me become all that I am to become”. Oh how this would serve the nations, if he were a seed of rice, to make more seeds to be able to feed the world, oh how this would sustain nature if this were a seed that made more seeds that fed the wildlife. Oh how this would be the one who was a haven in the desert and gave shade to the weary sojourner, for without the shade, they would have surely perished. And the shade provided moisture, and the moisture provided water and the water gave life to all who ventured there.
Even a mighty oak tree started out as a tender and vulnerable seedling, subject to the chilly rains and windy nights. Perhaps even a nip or two of frost or hail. Maybe the seed itself had a narrow escape from a squirrel with the munchies, or perhaps the fact that it was struck underfoot by a deer that pushed it into the dark, warm ground which became the fertile soil for it’s new life. Had it not endured those pressures, would it be who it is today? Standing the test of time, perseverance is the compost for it’s journey. What once was crap is now a balm for the feet of the mighty oak tree, weathered and strong, rich in life and strength, reaching it’s leaves up to the morning sky for a kiss from the sun.
~ By Sylvia Fox Bevan