Calla Lilies

The first week I was at Concordia, Kiel purchased some beautiful white Calla Lilies at Wegmans. He has my heart for beauty, and continued the tradition I started after cancer of having beauty always close by. Part of that desire is making sure I have fresh flowers in the house whenever I can, whether picked at roadside, grown in a pot, or purchased from a store.

When I returned home from Concordia, they were still white, still sitting on the top of the entertainment center, still without any scent. Kiel and I both remarked on their long lasting freshness - an unheard of five weeks. They are his favorite flower.

I remember the first time I became aware of Calla lilies. It was scandalous. One of the Campus Life leaders had made the tragic mistake of falling in love with a divorced man. That was just not done in those days - neither divorce nor marrying a divorcee. Consequences were dire. In this case, she was not allowed to hold the wedding in her church, and would lose her job over it.

I was truly sad about the whole thing. She was taking it much better than I would have. I couldn't imagine what she would do - about her job or her church. And I had to decide whether to attend her wedding, running the risk of being called to account for sanctioning such a wicked union. In the end, our friendship won out over the threat of excommunication. I had know her for too long to abandon her in her hour of need.

She wore a simple, elegant white dress, and held in her hand one single white calla lily. She looked stunning, especially to an impressionable young college student. The sparkle in her eyes was surpassed only by the brilliance of the small diamond in her ring. I don't think she looked at anything else that day besides her husband.

I lost track of her a long time ago. I came to realize that she had indeed taken on a difficult role. Her husband had children by his first wife and she became a stepmother to daughters not that far removed from her own age. To boot, the husband was a good fifteen years her senior. She never did have a child of her own since he was already done with that part of his life.

Now, of course, I see the ironic symbolism in the flower she chose - one that is an alien plant to this country, one that, once introduced, can take over whole fields and spreads like wildfire. A plant that is highly poisonous to any who partake of it. One that is unique in appearance, and not even a true lily. Perhaps it was the longevity that held so much appeal for my friend. I hope her marriage has indeed lasted.