One of my colleagues has a true green thumb. I love her gift - I only have a partial green pinkie. She singlehandedly brings lush green life inside the library with a multiplicity of plants - tall trees, bushy shrubs, leggy vines, perky plants, and beautiful violets.
The violets are particularly prolific right now. One plant is so laden with perfect blossoms I almost thought it was fake. I had to pick it up and take a close look to verify that it was indeed a living, breathing and totally gorgeous flowering potted plant. The blossoms are a beautiful white scalloped with a deep purple that darkens almost to black as it gets closer to the center.
Every week she performs the ritual of watering her children. She has it down to a science - fill the 2 apple juice bottles and the little green watering can. Take one section of the library at a time. Linger over each plant to make sure it is healthy and prospering, feel the soil, look for roots, touch the waxy leaves, inhale the scent, move the container to get the best light. She does it all intuitively, instinctively, without even being aware of her process.
There is something homey and comforting about the process. It gives you those nurture goosebumps you get when someone is caring for you. I watch her move down the reference stacks, greeting each plant, tending to its needs, fussing over each leaf and saucer. It feels good to witness such love and care. The plants certainly respond to her touch. I am sure they stand taller and greener after she passes.
Back in her office area is the infirmary. Any plant needing an extra special touch, some bug treatment, some feeding solution spends quality time near her desk, basking in the sunshine pouring through the bank of southern exposure windows. I have yet to see anyone meet their demise. I am not surprised. It is a gift. I am blessed by her ministry every day.
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