Torch Bearer

have you ever wondered
how little children see the world?
how they see magic
in the shapes of cookies
they pop into their mouth,
in the scratches and stains
on a daily-washed floor,
in the way ants talk to each other
as they carry their treasure home,
in the workings of eyelashes
or taste buds
or a brain that never sleeps,
in the way things are born or die -
where do they come from?
and where do they go?
have you ever wondered
how little children walk this earth?
how they stop and marvel at things
even in their busyness,
little things that skip our eyes
that are too scared to close,
too scared to die into a world
that is but a journey of souls,
where the torch is passed on
to someone else,
whose turn it is now
to walk the next mile?

Hope. Faith. Love.

I had this little jasmine plant that I got from a nursery. I love the smell of jasmine flowers. It's fragrance is just perfect for my heightened sensitivities to smell. Just mild enough.

I cared for this plant, watered it with love and tenderness, gave thanks to it when it grew faster than I expected it to and flowered with just one or two full, fragrant flowers - not too many.

Some months ago, I fixed a drip irrigation system to water all my plants, while we were away on a long trip. I had hope that that would take care of my dear plants' needs. It did partly. Some survived. Some died. This jasmine plant almost died. It was completely dried up, all its leaves had turned yellow and brown and were hanging limp, yet brittle. I was heartbroken.

I tended to the plants and talked to them in silence, mourning quietly for the ones that did not survive. While I was clearing out my little balcony garden, I saw a slight tinge of green on one stem of this jasmine plant. That gave me hope. But I did not want to rest in hope and spin dreams. I decided to let it be after cutting off some branches and pulling out all the yellow leaves. I left the roots intact. I decided to water it and care for it just like my other plants. I also went to a nursery and got another jasmine plant. But it was not because I had given up hope on this one. I perhaps felt it could do with some company :) And so I let them be. I stopped dreaming of flowers and lingering fragrances. I just watched them and cared for them without asking for anything in return.

A week or ten days later, I saw the first two fluorescent green leaves on the old jasmine plant. It had survived! And then, then there was no stopping it. It seemed to grow faster than the other one that I had just got.

This morning, I was greeted by a small bunch of jasmine buds on the plant that had resolved to live. My heart felt full and complete. I did not dream that this would happen. Yet, I am also glad I did not lose hope and faith. I tended it with love and today the tiny flowers radiate a quiet, fragrant love that I feel so blessed to receive.

Hope. Faith. Love.
They can work magic. Just like the silent, unseen power of the Universe.