My daughter Annie had moved to California the past Fall, and I missed her terribly. The youngest of my six children, she’d been the last to leave the nest. For the past year she had been living back home with me in New Hampshire while her Marine husband was on duty overseas. When he returned, though, they’d moved to his new, long-term posting—in San Diego.
Over the Winter, we exchanged letters and talked on the phone. One bright Sunday in Spring, she called to wish me a happy Mother’s Day. We chatted for a bit, then she asked, “Have you found your Mother’s Day present?”
Puzzled, I answered,“No, nothing has come in the mail.”
She laughed and said, “Go outside and look along the fence, Mom.” I went outside to investigate, wondering how she could possibly have arranged to have a gift delivered to my yard without me knowing.
My daughter had surely been thinking of me last Fall while she was still here. All along the fence line were great clusters of crocuses just coming into bloom. Tender green shoots promised daffodils and hyacinths to come, as well.
All the time she had been gone, her thoughtful gift had hidden in the cold, dark earth —waiting for the warmth of Spring to surprise and delight me. I was deeply moved.
Flowers aren’t the only things that cherish warmth.
By Margaret R. Whitney of Nashua, NH.