Sheila

I have a bushy ivy plant named Sheila. I was worried that Sheila would have a hard time surviving the move. I made sure she wouldn't be squished in the car on our two day journey, to the point of making the boys take less stuff with us and put more things on the truck. I haven't had Sheila for a long time - less than a year. She was already pretty good sized when I bought her.

Why do I call her Sheila? My boys ask me that from time to time. I tell them about working at Delta Lake as a counselor when I was in college. The first week we were asked to volunteer our time because the campers were mentally handicapped children from poor families who could not afford to pay for a week of camp. We had one counselor per camper, and the first year, I had a young girl named Sheila. Sheila was mildly retarded, and understood most things. Concrete stuff like time and money gave her a hard time. And she couldn't be left alone. But she had a delicious curiosity about everything, and loved to explore, not easy for her since her eyes were crossed and I think she had double vision.

It was all I could do to keep up with her. She would be standing right next to me, and I would turn my head for an instant, just long enough for a butterfly to flutter by and off she would go, laughing and chasing until something else caught her attention and took her in another direction. If you called her name, trying to get her attention, her only response was to say the word Shelia over and over, but not look at you or stop her running away or even stand still!

The other counselors thought it was funny to pretend to be Sheila, and they would run around waving their arms crying Sheila, Sheila, Sheila. Sheila thought that was funny and would clap and laugh. She was so full of life and love and energy and joy. Though she wore me out, I liked her and learned a lot about appreciating life from her.

One of the things a cancer compatriot told me was that when you can keep a plant alive, its a good sign that you are recovering emotionally. I had tried a couple of times to have plants in Illinois after the cancer was behind me, but invariably after some length of time, the stupid thing would die (of course, it was because I had forgotten to water it - too depressed, too distracted, too tired - all the too reasons you have nothing left over to nurture others).

It wasn't until I bought the ivy plant that I found I was ready to nurture something and actually had the energy, interest, and vitality to maintain care for a plant. And what better name for a new addition to my family for whom I care than the name of someone so filled with the joy of life, someone whose name conjures up happy summer days and good friends! Granted, I got a plant that was pretty robust yet low maintenance to begin with, but I was so pleased that even when I had to be out of town for conferences and graduate work, I remembered to make sure Sheila got the care she needed. She has flourished, timidly sending out little shoots. I even snipped a cutting from her and started a daughter plant named Cinderella (out of the ashes. . . ) whom I gave to one of the girls in the complex office when she moved into a new house.

This morning I slipped Sheila a bit of water and noticed that one short week after settling in, she is beginning to grow lots of new leaves! In fact she seems to be doing better in Rochester than she did in Connecticut. I am hoping its a sign that the boys will also prosper here and show new growth - and indeed, I think they are beginning to already.