“His shoots spread over his garden.” —JOB 8:16 (RSV)
It was a sad little bromeliad, almost hidden behind healthier, showier plants on display in the grocery store. The “60% off ” sticker slapped on the front of its plastic pot showed plainly what store management thought of it. My husband Keith reached down and picked it up.
“You’ve got a beautiful bromeliad at home,” I said. “What do you want that one for?”
“It’s got potential,” he said.
I shrugged. “At least it’s cheap.” Taking care of the plants in our house was Keith’s hobby, not mine. When we got home, he put it on the windowsill over our kitchen sink, next to the beautiful bromeliad he’d been nurturing for months. The new one looked sickly, leaves discolored and drooping, stalk dry and dull. He peeled off the discount sticker and tossed it in the trash. I shook my head and left the plant care to him.
I don’t notice the plants as much as I might, usually only when Keith points out something to me. So I didn’t really look at the bromeliads for more than a week. Then I was putting some dishes in the sink and happened to glance up at the windowsill. The bromeliads looked almost like twins—firm, plump, shiny leaves, and each plant with a brightly colored bloom.
“What in the world happened?” I asked.
Keith smiled at me. “It just needed a little love.”
God, let everyone who needs a little love find it and bloom.
