Three Violets

African Violents

A couple of months ago, these three African violets were one overgrown, root bound, sickly violet in need of some tender loving care. I stopped at Lowe’s for some pots and soil and took the monster violet outside to split it up into three pots. I thought they would look good separated and arranged on our rectangular coffee table in the living room.

Two of the violets split well, surviving the trauma of being cut into thirds with ample roots. The middle violet didn’t do as well. When I covered it’s rootless stem with soil in its new pot home, I wasn’t sure it would survive. Sure enough, in the weeks that followed the violet’s stronger brothers thrived and even bloomed, while the middle violet wilted, lost leaves, and looked as if it wasn’t going to make it.

I persisted. I watered and fertilized faithfully. I cut away dead leaves. I even spoke encouragingly to it, hoping it would hang on. This morning I noticed that not only are some of the older leaves recovering, but there are also new, bright green leaves sprouting from the center. The weaker violet is going to make it.

I had options regarding this weak violet. I could have replaced it. Violets are easy to come by, but I like these white ones because of their simplicity and they aren’t easy to find. I could have made do without it completely, but I’m drawn to arrangements of things in threes.

I’m trying to figure out how this applies to life in general. What comes to mind is the familiar phrase, “Time heals all wounds.” I suppose that’s true, although we may not be as open to the way healing winds up presenting itself. Moreover, immersed in a world that teaches us to expect immediate results, we rarely give time the patience required to see recovery through to the end.

I’m glad I gave the middle violet a chance to recover the hurt I inflicted upon it. I hope to watch it flourish and bloom for years to come. If it continues to grow, I will feel a sense of accomplishment and joy every time I see it.

Healing in Unexpected Places

LeeGayle, our Lil’ Saint at icanhasgrace, shares the following story:

Healing can come from the silliest places.

Nicky (5) and I were in Target and he spotted a stuffed animal kitten that looks a lot like our cat Blaze at home. He picked it up and played with it for a minute and noticed it had a hole on the back. He got sad and said, “No one will ever buy this kitty now; she will be alone here forever.” I said, “Someone might,” He said,
“Why would anyone buy a kitty with a hole when they could have a new one?”

I told him that the hole made it special and different but not imperfect.

The cashier said, “You don’t want this one; it has a hole. I can call a
manager and see if they would discount it or they could go get another one
from the toy department ; we have tons of them.”

I could feel Nicky’s eyes watching me to see how I would react. I told the cashier that this was the
kitten that we wanted and we didn’t need a discount. We came home and I asked him if he wanted me to sew up the hole and he said “no she isn’t well yet.” He has played with the kitten for a week or so and even took it to the doctor with him for his well child visit.

Tonight he brought me the kitty and said “mommy, can you sew up the hole now? Our house healed the kitty and she is better now because we loved her.”



I’m hanging around the house longer than usual this morning, waiting for my bowels to calm down long enough to allow me to get to work. That sounds grim, doesn’t it? Actually, it’s not too bad. The house is empty and peaceful after the frenzy of everyone getting ready to leave. I can hear the rain falling on the roof and trickling down the gutters. I hear thunder. The birds are singing.

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