My mom's parents didn't leave much behind when they passed away. At least, not much of what the world thinks of as being an inheritance. There wasn't a big house, or lots of money, or an enormous trust fund. Instead, when my mom gets together with her brother and sister, they sometimes walk around each other's yards, pointing at different plants.
"These are some of the daffodils mom had growing on the side of the house."
"This forsythia came from a cutting from the one mom and dad had growing in the back yard."
"Do you have some of her irises? These are all irises that came their house."
Apparently, my grandmother and granddad both had green thumbs, a trait which definitely was passed down to my mom and her siblings. My whole life, my mom has had this enormous christmas cactus that is the most beautiful one I have ever seen. It also came from a cutting from one that my grandmother had.

Last summer, when I was in Tennessee with my mom, we hunted around my Aunt Kathy's house, digging up and dividing my grandmother's irises. I came back with a big stack to plant. I had totally forgotten about them until a few days ago when I noticed something blooming on the side of our house. A beautiful yellow iris. And now, there are more blooms - pale pink blossoms that make me smile each time I look at them and remember my grandparents.

It also always make me think about the legacy of their faith, which they have also left behind. Faith that started out small, but grew in both of them. Little clippings of that faith were planted in the hearts and lives of their children, and now grows in their children and grandchildren, like tiny yellow blossoms poking up out of hard soil.

I couldn't hope for a better inheritance.


Popular posts from this blog

New bag

Nursery update #1