Gratitude counting (Update)

by tamarjacobson


Quote of the day:

Then, when it seems we will never smile again, life comes back [quote on a greeting card given to me by my dear friend, Susan at the end of August]

I have decided to start my count down to Thanksgiving earlier this year. I have much to be thankful for, and as the days become shorter and colder, I find myself withdrawing inward to the warmth and depth of a grateful soul. What a year this has been. No doubt about it, I have had the time of my life on so many levels, I hardly know where to begin. As evening falls I begin the contemplation. The first blog post for giving of thanks. 

Last year I began by sharing my Christmas cactus plants, which bloom in all their glory always a few weeks prior to Thanksgiving. However, on the eve of beginning this countdown, I am thankful for a new addition to my plant fold. While driving up to the farmers' market today I noticed a large Hibiscus lying by the side of the road waiting forlornly for the garbage truck to arrive any minute to throw it away. Leaves were drooping as the plant lay abandoned in the crisp, cold air. I could have sworn that I heard the small tree crying out to me to save it from its imminent demise, and so I swiftly turned the car around, stopped by the side of the road, and carried the ailing plant into my car. Before heading out to complete the weekend shopping of fresh fruits and vegetables, organic unsweetened soy milk, almonds, and other such goodies, I wandered into the plant store for a large pot and new, fresh potting soil. "I've just saved a gorgeous hibiscus from destruction!" I exclaimed to the store owner as she helped me choose the pot and gather the bags of soil to drag to my car. "Ooh," She replied sadly, "Who would throw out such a plant like that!"

I talked to the old plant as we traveled around the town shopping for this and that. "We'll soon be home," I said soothingly, "and then I will give you a nice warm home and lots of water to drink." I could sense the plant lying in quiet desperation across the back seat of the car. As soon as we arrived home, I unpacked the groceries and ran excitedly into my study to make space for the tree. Ada ran around with me sniffing at the new pot and rubbing against it to make it her own. After placing a few small stones at the bottom for drainage, I gently laid the roots into the welcoming soil, and poured in two full cans of water. 

A few hours later, I looked up from the computer and over at the Hibiscus. In a matter of a few hours, its leaves had become strong and shiny, reaching up and out, and one of the buds had raised its head out of its drooping position.


Tonight, as the countdown begins, I am thankful for my new Hibiscus.


This morning, I stumble back into my office, eyes barely opened, carrying my cup of wake-me-up coffee, and when I turn on the light I see that the Hibiscus has thanked me right back: