Who knew a mother-in-law’s tongue could bloom? I’ve had these forever- as long as my youngest child. They were inherited from a lovely friend who passed away and have unobtrusively grown and multiplied in whatever cast-off containers or planters I had on hand as they followed me through several moves. They asked for so little.
My grandmother’s have also bloomed this summer too. Her neighbor said years ago that everything has a bloom. I have always liked thinking about that, but in my thoughts I’d add, “even if does mean that it’s dying.”
I think all of my “companion plants” have bloomed now. I really cherish this in the succulents, because they require little but patience: a picture of my last few years. I’ve been sort of unattended on the surface, but my roots unhampered beneath the ground- where there was much secret growth. I think it won’t be long before the fruit bathes in sunlight.
I believe God was working this out, meaning for me to flower over time, stressed to grow strong. I don’t think we are made to be like the Century that surely has it’s bloom, even if it is dying. But that doesn’t frighten me either.