(In memory of the late, great Nell Lester)
Of all the things you gave me as a child—
as Girl Scout troop leader, purveyor
of my favorite tuna and noodles,
oh, and not incidentally, mom to the girl
next door, my first/forever best friend—
I am gobsmacked by your plants
that have come to live at my house.
Your only child bequeathed them
to me after your passage into mystery.
She, who lives with a plant-eating cat,
could not house your indoor beauties.
I trundled home a dozen that had lived
with you for who knows how long,
determined to let them summer on
my deck and winter indoors.
And look—your Christmas cactus—
the sprawling, pinky white one—
is blooming its fool head off on time,
Right Before Christmas, which feels,
honestly, miraculous, if also a bit
show-offy.
And though you, in all your modesty,
would likely point out that you have
nothing to do with the timing of such
glorious blossoms, I am here to say—
as we often did as kids—Nuh uh.
Because, I figure, you must be in
the Heavenly Blooming Department,
green thumb gardener that you were.
And while I am an enthusiastic amateur
at best, I take my position seriously as
Apprentice Plant Tender Here on Earth,
knowing that these cotton candy blossoms
festooning your cactus in the darkest
part of the year is truly grace in action.
So I hope that all of you up there in
the Heavenly Blooming Department
hear my joyous exclamations and
delighted applause for this bit of
Christmas floral transcendence,
a job so very well done.
•••
(With love and gratitude to Sue Lester for sharing her mom with the girls next door.)
Güd wrtr 
That’s a beautiful Christmas cactus Jan. I’ve never seen one that color. My grandmother kept several, flowers dense and all Santa-suit red, and she’d bring them out for display during the holidays. She started this tradition when I was a tiny boy, but early on, there were some years with no blooms. A neighbor told her to add a teaspoon of vinegar (or any weak acid) to her cactus watering-can about three weeks before she wanted them to flower and she’d always have them at Christmas. It worked like a charm.
My sister-in-law has my grandmother’s original plants now, habituated over seven decades to cheerily blossom without vinegar. Their red and green make me think of Grammie at this time of year–and smile.
Mele Kalikimaka — Hauʻoli Makahiki Hou!
Great story about your grandmother’s trick for blooming! I’m going to remember that. In this case, the plant just burst forth, and it’s a sweet one, as you can see… the photo only shows a portion of the very loaded cactus.
You know your Hawaiian! Mele kalikimaka and Hau’oli Makahiki Hou right back to you and yours!
Merry Christmas to you, Jan-babe, and to the Mom holiday cactus that looks oh so happy at your green thumbed touch. Mrs. Lester has to be so pleased with the performance!
Sending hugs and love this Christmas day from Donna and Eric and fam, Dick and me, to you, our sister in the foothills. Thankful for you, Sue-babe, and your mom and dad for oodles of reasons… not just the tuna and noodles! LavaUmuchly.
I had Christmas cactuses–red, pink, white–for half a century, and suddenly, none. But I’m going to get another one, and try this trick!