The Orchid

Yesterday, I was wrapping gifts on our desk. On a corner, out of harm’s way, a blooming orchid glowed in filtered sunshine. The beauty and serenity of the plant accompanied me as I cut, taped, and labeled. 

A dear neighbor had given us this orchid when our grandson James passed away early in the year. When it arrived, it was covered with white blossoms with faint purple streaks that covered two stalks. The blooms lasted and lasted until sometime in July, when one by one they began to fall. This is the point where an orchid in my care begins to produce nothing but leaves. 

After the blossoms fell, I waited for the stalks to wither so I could trim them and remove the stakes that supported them. That didn’t happen, and then about six weeks ago, I saw a bump on one of the stems. Today that bump is a stem that supports seven buds and one open bloom. There is a bump on the other stalk. And although you may call me fanciful, I can’t help but think this is a spiritual gift. 

This year I have decided not to send Christmas cards. But if I did, the card would have a white orchid on it—for me, at this moment in time, a symbol of the continuity of life beyond this world and the promise of reunion. So consider this my card to you, with a prayer for peace, serenity, and hope.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, and Kwanza greetings to all!