SPRING 2006
watered my aloe plants today. I have huge aloe plants, with leaves that are over two feet long, the result of many years of benign neglect. I seldom water them. If I am ever gone long enough for someone to need to enter my home and water my plants, I have to plead with them to ignore my aloes. "Let them live on dry sand!" I say.
But my husband has plants at his workplace that need to be watered almost daily. Dry sand kills them. Leftover tea at the end of the day, however, inspires them to new and deeper roots.
It depends on their background, of course. My aloe vera are the descendants of plants that adapted to the desert. My husband has plants whose ancestors grew in rain forests. They delight in different environments—and the bliss of one kills the other.
We accept this in plants. Or sort of accept it. I have been known to kill rain forest plants by forgetting to water them. Mario has been known to kill desert plants by watering them. But at least we don't blame the plants for their deaths. We accept the fact that we mistreated them.
There are ways in which people are like those plants. My grandchildren are each one very different. I have a grandchild whose goal in life is to take the entire world apart, another whose goal in life is to discover every word that exists, and use it, and a third who seems to be most interested in watching everybody and figuring out what makes people do what they do. I lock things away from the first, make sure I use no "improper" words around the second, and explain my inner motives a lot to the third.
Usually I am patient when the budding engineer won't talk to me, or the budding writer or psychologist won't do something that requires using his hands, waiting for me to be free to help. Usually, but not always. Sometimes I forget they are different plants with different needs.
And sometimes I also forget that difference when I deal with my friends and neighbors and clients. Each of us is different, with different genes, different backgrounds, different skills, different interests. I need to spend less time judging others, and more time just watching them, learning how they operate, understanding them, and finding appropriate ways to love them. I need to learn what it is that makes each person I meet feel accepted and understood. Perhaps it is a chocolate cake for one, a photo of a flower for another, a quick hug for a third.
This year, my goal is to watch people more, to understand them better, to find more ways to show each person in my life that I love him or her. I realize I won't always succeed. Sometimes my own tiredness or my depression or even my delight will get in my way. But I hope that in spite of those obstacles, the end of 2006 will find me a more loving and understanding person.
Sondra Ball
Clerk, Salem Quarterly MeetingRETURN TO TABLE OF CONTENTS
Last modified:
Sunday, March 05, 2006 at 05:42 PM
