This is the story of a mint plant, and maybe of me as well.
I'd been given a small budget of seminary money to buy plants at the central market, where we do most of our bulk grocery shopping. With $200 pesos ($15 US ish), I was able to get a few flowers- including a very fragrant jasmine and a tea version of the double-delight roses like my dad has always grown- and some herbs. Rosemary. Oregano. Strawberry. And a very persistent lemon mint plant.
I say persistent because I know that mint is basically a weed, and since I'm not the most experienced gardener, I figured it would be smart to have at least one plant I could still show in a few months.
...Which is why I was pretty devastated when I found it up on the terraza, wilted and crispy at the same time. Nearly dead. I had transplanted most of the other plants into larger pots, but had been nonchalant about the mint plant. "It's mint, it's a weed; what could possibly go wrong?" And yet, after less than 3 days, my mint plant in its original container was not showing many signs of life.
And yet, shortly after sunset, I dug a hole in the giant pot for the mini pine, smooshed my fingers through the mint's roots, tucked the plant in gently and doused the whole thing with water. The leaves were still crumbly, and I figured that the giant pot would be my poor little mint plant's grave.
But something remarkable happened.
When I tiptoed downstairs in the middle of the night (bedroom upstairs, bathroom downstairs...), I took a peek at the mint plant. It was as full-leafed and vivacious as the mint I remember along the Deschutes. It was fully alive.
The mint plant had cooked under the sun, not because it was a poor plant, but because its pot was too small for its roots. In such a small space, in the only home it had ever known, it could not thrive anymore. And so the good Gardener (or, in my case, the mediocre gardener with a lower case...I think you know where I'm going here) found it a bigger pot. A place where it could expand, grow, and live.
I think it was St. Iraneus that said that the glory of God is man fully alive. It is to God's glory that we continue to grow in His fullness and likeness, even and especially when that means an occasional transplant.
Because the Kingdom of God is not unlike my little mint plant.
(Which, by the way, is not so little anymore).
I'd been given a small budget of seminary money to buy plants at the central market, where we do most of our bulk grocery shopping. With $200 pesos ($15 US ish), I was able to get a few flowers- including a very fragrant jasmine and a tea version of the double-delight roses like my dad has always grown- and some herbs. Rosemary. Oregano. Strawberry. And a very persistent lemon mint plant.
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| Lemon mint! |
...Which is why I was pretty devastated when I found it up on the terraza, wilted and crispy at the same time. Nearly dead. I had transplanted most of the other plants into larger pots, but had been nonchalant about the mint plant. "It's mint, it's a weed; what could possibly go wrong?" And yet, after less than 3 days, my mint plant in its original container was not showing many signs of life.
And yet, shortly after sunset, I dug a hole in the giant pot for the mini pine, smooshed my fingers through the mint's roots, tucked the plant in gently and doused the whole thing with water. The leaves were still crumbly, and I figured that the giant pot would be my poor little mint plant's grave.
But something remarkable happened.
When I tiptoed downstairs in the middle of the night (bedroom upstairs, bathroom downstairs...), I took a peek at the mint plant. It was as full-leafed and vivacious as the mint I remember along the Deschutes. It was fully alive.
The mint plant had cooked under the sun, not because it was a poor plant, but because its pot was too small for its roots. In such a small space, in the only home it had ever known, it could not thrive anymore. And so the good Gardener (or, in my case, the mediocre gardener with a lower case...I think you know where I'm going here) found it a bigger pot. A place where it could expand, grow, and live.
 |
| ...Not a mint plant. But fully alive =) |
Because the Kingdom of God is not unlike my little mint plant.
(Which, by the way, is not so little anymore).
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