Let Me Tell You About my Garden!

“I like the way you have it decorated for Easter”, Ethan commented as he dashed from room to room examining the several bunnies, chicks and, best of all, real eggs I had put around to help us celebrate the most joyous of holidays coming up in one week.

Ethan and his mom, Becki, had been able to free up 3 days from their busy spring break week. And they would spend them with us.

Ethan likes all the “real” things that Grandma usually decorates with and he always races from room to room when he first arrives to see what is on display. He likes to look at the real birds’ nests and the real eggs that I have found over the years and tucked into them, while not necessarily the nest they came out of. He likes the shells, pine cones and other seed pods and so on.

We have a container of toys, a basket of books and a modest collection of puzzles, play dough, etc. but this 5 year-old would rather play with “real” stuff most of the time.

He gets very excited in the summer when we can go to the local farmers’ market and he gets to play with the real fruits and veggies that are in season. To substitute for when the season isn’t right, I have found, over several years, a number of pretty realistic artificial fruits and veggies, but nothing is as good as “real”.

On this week before Easter, after looking through the box of shells, Ethan rejected that idea and asked if we could get down some of Grandma’s rather extensive collection of artificial flowers. “Sure”, I said, a bit puzzled, and we headed to the shelves where most of my seasonal flowers are stored. Soon we were heading up to the living room with armloads of blossoms. In fact, it took us about four trips to get them all upstairs.

“We are going to make a potpourri garden”, Ethan announced to Mom and Grandpa and, with permission, began to stick the various stems into the crevice between the couch cushions and the back, as well as into all the chairs in the room and into several baskets. He spent a happy hour carefully arranging the stems of flowers by size, color, and fullness -- all the while extolling their value as an eventual part of a variety of potpourri mixes.

Soon there was no place to safely sit in the living room and we had to move the dining table chairs into position so visitors to the garden could sit and gaze at the breathtaking beauty before us. Every adult who entered the room was subjected to an informative lecture on the variety of blooms before them and which potpourri they would be good for.

At one point an AT&T man arrived to check some wiring and he got the full lecture. Well, as much as he was willing to stand still for.

When bedtime came on Sunday evening Grandma got to read The Potpourri Garden to Ethan as his bedtime story. Now the obsession with flowers became clear. As always, I was amazed at how much of the information in the book Ethan had retained and could recite back to anyone who would listen.

The next day we drove about 45 min from our house to spend the day with Aunt Deb. Our route takes us past an outlet mall and Becki wanted to stop and pick up a few new garments for Ethan. While he was once delighted to go shopping with his mom, he is quickly becoming a typical boy about looking at clothes. He wanted to know if Carter’s sold silk flowers because we needed a few more for our garden.

When he was told that Carter’s probably didn’t sell flowers of any kind, he didn’t want to even stop at the mall, but he was somewhat appeased when I told him I thought we might find silk flowers at one or two of the other stores.

Unfortunately the store I thought would be the best possibility has closed and is no more. And the other store we tried had nothing that would be suitable for our garden. Needless to say the five-year-old gardener was very disappointed.

Then I thought of Michaels.

Grandpa agreed that we could stop at the Michaels near our house on the way home and, when Becki was done her shopping, we headed south. Ethan had been a bit impatient getting to Aunt Deb’s, now he could hardly wait for every mile to pass. I began to worry about What if….

We parked close to the entrance and kept the eager gardener in check while we crossed the drive lane. I suspect most Michaels are laid out the same way - the bulk of the artificial flowers are just inside the front door.

We walked in the door and Ethan exclaimed, loud enough for everyone in the store to hear, “Mom, look at all the flowers!” He grabbed my hand and steered me over to them, his face effused with joy.

Becki gave him some money to spend and then went off to do her own shopping in a quieter corner of the store.

Ethan gets an allowance and is beginning to understand the concepts of price and expenditure. We spent several minutes pulling stems from containers, examining the price tag and then adding that amount to what he already clutched. It soon became evident that he would only be able to purchase a few stems with the money he had stuffed into his pocket. Grandma began the internal debate about how much she should add to his fund.

Then I spied the seasonal aisle and suggested that those flowers might be on sale. Sure enough! Most things were half price or ever better. Soon Ethan was clutching a giant bouquet of daffodils, iris and small bunches of four other flowers. He was filled with joy.

Now we were racing through the store, flowers bobbing in hand, to find Mom and show her what we had found for his money.

Like most exuberant 5-year-olds, Ethan cannot contain his joy. As soon as he saw Becki he yelled, “Mom, look what we found.” I watched as heads turned and people either smiled, or frowned.

On our way back to the check-out several people commented on “that little boy holding all the flowers.” Whenever they were close by Ethan would joyously explain to them that we needed these for our potpourri garden. Either Becki or I would follow up by explaining that our living room was a riot of flowers. I suspect only a few folks had any idea what we were talking about.

At the check-out he carefully counted out the money Becki had given him and the clerk dutifully exclaimed over his choices. She also got the full explanation of what the flowers were for. The woman behind Becki in line seemed rather enchanted with this excited little boy who would rather play with flowers than… As we exited the store together she asked if her kids could come over and play with Ethan, maybe something would rub off. “Sure”, I said.

On Tuesday I joined the ladies of one of my discussion groups and could hardly wait to tell them about Ethan and the potpourri garden. I guess I was almost as excited as he was.

Bill took a bunch of pictures which we emailed to family and I posted on my Facebook page.

I shared the story with a group at church. Ethan told Daddy all about it over the phone and not only told Aunt Deb about his garden, but gave her advice on replanting her garden (at her invitation). Her comment was that she was now going to have to rip up her whole garden and start over.

If I could pick only one word to describe our three days together, I would choose “Excitement”.

Excitement: enthusiasm, joy, exuberance that could not be contained. It had to be shared with whoever would listen. Some people listened patiently, some joined in the excitement, even when they didn’t fully understand what it was all about, some turned away because, perhaps, they believe that children should be seen, but not heard.

I have to admit that I added my own joy to Ethan’s. It is wonderful to have a grandchild who shares one’s passions. And I did my own share of exuberant telling, with similar reactions to those Ethan got.

One of the things that Ethan has yet to learn, and perhaps I am still learning, is how to judge who wants to hear what he has to say, and who would be better just left alone.

It is often like that when we are sharing our faith. Sometimes we are so filled with joy at what we are discovering about God that we just can’t contain it. Our excited sharing seems to spill out to everyone we encounter. And we get the same reactions that Ethan got; some people listen patiently, some join in the excitement, even when they didn’t fully understand what it is all about, while some turn away wishing you would just be quiet.

I hope as Ethan matures that he NEVER loses his ability to express his joy. I know he will need to learn to judge whom to share with and how to share that enthusiasm, but may he never be so rebuffed that he stops sharing with anyone.

And I pray that we will never lose our joy in our discovery of who Christ is and who we are in relation to Him. May we always find someone with whom we can let that joy spill over, even when they might not fully understand, they will just accept us, even feel some of our joy themselves.