ItwasanautumnmorningshortlyaftermyhusbandandImovedintoourfirsthouse.ChildrenwereupstairsunpackingandIwaslookingoutofthewindowatmyfathermovingaroundmysteriouslyonthefrontlawn.MyparentslivednearbyandDadhadvisitedusseveraltimesalready.“Whatareyoudoingoutthere?”Icalledtohim.Helookedupsmiling.“I’mmakingyouasurprise.”KnowingmyfatherIthoughtitcouldbejustaboutanything.Aself-employedjobberhewasalwaysbuildingthingsoutofoddsandends.Whenwewerekidshealwayscreatedsomethingsurprisingforus.
TodayhoweverDadwouldsaynomoreandcaughtupsinthebusynessofournewlifeIeventuallyforgotabouthissurprise.UntilonegloomydaythefollowingMarchwhenIglancedoutofthewindow.Anyyet…Isawadotofblueacrosstheyard.Iheadedoutsideforacloserlook.Theywerecrocuses(番红花)throughoutthefrontlawn.Lavenderblueyellowandmyfavoritepink----littlefacesmovedupanddowninthecoldwind.
Dad!Ismiledrememberingthethingshehadsecretlyplantedlastautumn.Heknewhowthedarknessanddullnessofwinteralwaysgotmedown.Whatcouldhavebeenmoreperfectlytimelytomyneeds?
Myfather’scrocusesbloomedeachspringforthenextfourorfiveseasonsbringingthesameassuranceeverytimetheyarrived:hardtimeswasalmostover.Holdonkeepgoinglightiscomingsoon.
Thenaspringcamewithonlyhalftheusualblooms.Thenextspringtherewerenone.Imissedthecrocuses.IwouldaskDadtocomeoverandplantnewbulbs.ButIneverdid.
HediedsuddenlyoneOctoberday.Myfamilywasindeepsorrowleaningonourfaith.Imissedhimterribly.
FouryearspassedandonadismalspringafternoonIwasdrivingbackwhenIfoundmyselffeelingdepressed.“You’vegotthewinterdepressionagainandyougetthemeveryyear.”Itoldmyself.
ItwasDad’sbirthdayandIfoundmyselfthinkingabouthim.Thiswasnotunusual---myfamilyoftentalkedabouthimrememberinghowhelivedhisfaith.OnceIsawhimgivehiscoattoahomelessman.
SuddenlyIslowedasIturnedintoourdriveway.Istoppedandstaredatthelawn.Andthereonthemuddygrassandsmallgraypilesofmeltingsnowbravelywavinginthewindwasonepinkcrocus.
Howcouldaflowerbloomfromabulbmorethan18yea
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