Hope Springs Sometimes

We're trying to have flowering trees.

Long long ago, in our foolish youth, when we lived in lovely Virginia, the spring came in this abundance of flowering trees and general beauty. The winter, being sort of mild, would suddenly melt away, and the whole place would just be flowers, everywhere. Kind of like Oregon, of which I will not speak lest I begin to weep. And, being young and dim in our understanding, we took all the flowering trees for granted. It was like a birthright, like life, and liberty, and free healthcare. (That was just a little joke.)

We moved here in June, a hot, splendidly hot June. I gave birth to, or rather, was delivered of, Elphine, and we brought her home in a steam bath of heat. Then the winter. Then the spring. And, let's not kid ourselves, we didn't really notice, so busy were we, trying to keep up with a baby and a church. Our back yard was green and I tried to plant a miniature rose.

Four children later, and the crisis of losing the church and everything, we moved into this house right next to the brick wall of this big blessing. I speak, of course, of the church. We managed to cajole others into the removal of a lot of bubble bushes and aquired to ourselves, by the means of laying out actual money, a tiny apple tree. Every year Matt stands next to it and prays that will bloom, or whatever it's called, with actual flowers. Then we bought another tiny one. And then some sort of ornamental looking tree that's supposed to be guaranteed to flower. So much prayer. So much muttering and praying.

And so, you can imagine how over the moon we are this morning to find, not that the apple tree is flowering, general continued weeping, but that the big tall trees that we don't know anything about at all, except that they don't flower, Have Some Buds on Them. Oh my word. There is hope. Maybe God is real after all. (That was just another little joke. Course he's real. Totally Real.)

So now I have to go sit by the tree, just for a little bit, and experience the emotion of gratitude, whatever that must be. I'll let you know what it's like.