This is the fence between the neighbor’s house and ours. Â Notice the gorgeous white oleander bush in their yard, which I see every time I look out the kitchen window.
But lately there’s something else toÂ see, too:
I’m not sure how this single blossom managed to find its way through the tiny knothole in the fence, but it did. Â DefyingÂ all expectations, it’s blooming there, as if the very wood of the fence is alive.
I like it. Â It came at a good time.
When I compare the events of my lifeÂ to things that are happeningÂ in the news, I realize thatÂ in the cosmic scale of things, I really don’t have a lot toÂ complain about. Â Still, lately I’ve beenÂ fixating onÂ life’s little challenges. Â The piles of papers to grade, the strained lower back, the infuriatingly slow rush hourÂ traffic, the mystery rash on my son’s elbow, the laundry that never folds itself — sometimes I can’t see over them. Â I let them block my view of all that I have to be grateful for.
So this brave little flower growingÂ right through the fence is more than just a neat trick of nature. Â It’s a reminder that grace blooms in the smallest spaces, the tiniest cracks, the busiest lives.