August 1, 2022
I noticed a curious phenomenon this summer. A morning glory plant which “volunteered” in a pot beside my deck, reached out a tendril and entwined itself around a stick propped against the railing. I didn’t plant the morning glory so I assume a breeze or a bird seeded the pot. A climbing morning glory plant is not unusual, but the size of its leaves depending upon whether they were on the mother plant in the pot or sprouting from the vine up the stick was. The leaves on the morning glory in the planter remained small, but the leaves encircling the stick grew HUGE in comparison! How come?
I reached out to my greener-thumbed friends and was told that the larger leaves were expected but no idea why the leaves in the original plant in the pot were so small. One poetic soul quipped, “mother love!” It’s true that many mothers give of themselves to their children, even at the risk of their own well-being. So, was this a case of the mother plant giving her all for her offspring? Shrinking back as her offshoot climbed and prospered? Perhaps so.
But I’d like to propose another metaphor. The plants/people who stick close to home, who never reach out into the unknown, who never stretch themselves beyond the comfort zone of what they know, may not grow to their fullest potential. And when I say “home,” I don’t mean a geographical place.
People can live in their hometowns all their lives and still grow. They stretch their minds by reading a variety of books and by watching informative programming that opens up a world of knowledge. They try new skills and aren’t afraid of making mistakes as they grow. They honor their roots and learn lessons from their past, but they look to the future, climbing toward the sun, always reaching upward, not forever pining for the “good old days,” or for what might have been if only…if only… A climbing heart has no time for “if onlys.”
People grow when they reach out to others, especially to those who may not look or speak or act like they do. They listen and learn from them, whether positive or negative lessons. Spirits that climb upward bear hearts that grow larger than they would have if they had remained in isolation, in fear of change in themselves or others, in willful ignorance.
So, whether the stunted growth of the original plant is from self-sacrifice or from too much navel-gazing, I think the larger lesson here (pun intended!) is to witness the tremendous growth of the heart-shaped leaves of the climbing plant. Let’s keep climbing! Let’s keep growing! And perhaps like the Grinch, whose “small heart grew three sizes that day,” ours will grow beyond our expectations until we are known as ones who are “all heart.” Not such a bad thing to be!
Thanks for stopping by. Y’all come back, now! (and keep climbing!)
Kate (and speaking of growing, my Zephyr Stone middle grade book series is growing! The cover reveal for Zephyr Stone and the Haunted Beach House (it’s fabulous, y’all!) is slated for August 23! And Blue Ink Press is releasing the book on October 25! WooHoo!!)