A little less than a year
ago, I received a Christmas gift. It was a Christmas cactus with a note
attached explaining that if I took good care of it, next Christmas it would
bloom. I set it on my desk at work, and
as the new year began I made a pledge to myself that despite my decidedly not green
thumb, in this case I would channel my father the master gardener and tend
lovingly to this cactus, in hopes of seeing the promised Christmas blooms.
The Internet is your friend in cases like this and I
found a wealth of advice on how to care for a Christmas cactus, with promises
of abundant blooms next holiday season.
I conquered my sense that it would be hopeless (based on the mourned
deaths of houseplants past who were unfortunate enough to be under my care). I acted on faith alone and entered a repeating note in my computer
calendar for each Tuesday morning that said:
“Smile. And water the Christmas
cactus.” Each Tuesday I did just
that.
A few months ago something
told me to move the cactus to a sunnier corner of my office to catch the
western sunlight. In early November the
Christmas cactus pushed out many promising buds. By Thanksgiving, glorious pink blooms
emerged. And they’ve continued to grace
my office with their happy color all this holiday season.
I assure you that I am
grateful for the many ways this past year I’ve seen proof that faith can work
miracles and bring unexpected blessings; I wish both of these for each of you
this Christmas season.
