Strength and Beauty in Sweetpeas and Life

This afternoon, the storm clouds broke up for a few minutes, minutes enough for me to go out to the veggie patch and gently pull the newly rooted baby crab grass, which was threatening to choke out the courageous sweetpeas, who had braved the stormy blasts of May and early June. The day I planted out those tender seedlings in early May, the North wind came with a vengeance, bringing with it freezing temperatures, blasting out the life from my little sweetpeas, and laying them on the ground. Most of them succumbed, but I left them alone, not believing that they'd come back, but I just didn't have the heart to turn them under. It's now the middle of June, and I'm astonished that something so fragile as a sweetpea can turn its nose up at the North wind, and with a little sunshine, plenty of rain, and some lovely muggy warmth, pick itself up by the bootstraps and start again from the ground up! That is precisely what has happened to about half the row. The roots were unscathed by Jack Frost's kiss, and they simply formed 'tillers', an Old English term meaning by-shoots, forming a stronger plant by way of a rotten trick of fate carried on the wings of the wind.

It can be that way, too, for humankind. Fate's ugly hand can come knocking at your door, and before you know it, there you are, lying alongside the fallen sweetpeas. Some really do succumb, like the little seedlings, too weakened by the blow to form 'tillers'; but many, even if they lie there for a while, will be brought back to health by the warm love of friends, the encouragement of those who have been there before, and by the grace of God find new life, stronger life, in this far friendlier environment. It's very important to make sure that this new strength is not choked out by even the tiniest, tenderest baby 'crab grass' of life; it must be kept clear and clean. Before too long, that poor devastated life has branched out, reached out, and has become far stronger than it could ever have imagined. Now that life is an encouragement to others, rather than the victim of circumstance, and people draw from that well and are nourished.

In the same way, in a month or so, I shall draw in my breath deeply, as I take in the delightful aroma of the beautiful sweetpeas, and be nourished. A scent full of memories of my childhood, so long ago, yet so present in this dear, tendrilled flower.