Red Geraniums
She used second-hand water.
Water which had first been used to scrub vegetables, or rinse the dishes.
And poured it over her red geraniums with loving hands
Waste not, want not....that was her motto.
In offering such hand-me-downs to her flowers, ....they cared not. ....
For her own apron was a hand-me-down...made from a worn out shirt. ...
In her small way it simply told
how she had learned to cherish what matters most.
That even the smallest things, have value.
Her flowers seemed to know her gentle way, her tender touch...
You half expected that when she turned away,
the flowers would leave their place to follow her,
the way the kittens followed from the barn when she came up from milking the cows.
There may be other languages of love,
But those stubborn red geraniums would not die...
they simply bloomed brighter and brighter,
as if they understood whose tender hands were there for them.
Written for my Grandma....who loved her garden...
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