(Excerpt from our book, Tales from Heritage Farm, available in our store)
“In the old days,” she told her offspring, “I put forth the most heavenly, sweet scent. Bees bumbled over to visit me. They hummed happy songs on their visits to my beautiful flowers. I know they loved me and I felt appreciated,” she related as her whispery voice carried over the airwaves. She continued to reminisce, “Farmer’s Mom and Grandmom used to drink deeply of my perfume and pick armful of my blooms. While the hard work of spring chores was underway, my lavender bouquets refreshed the spirits of their hard working families at break time and meal time. Those days were so rewarding and satisfying,” she said with a sigh. Then in a moment of silence, she reflected on the days gone by.
“Don’t stop there, Mama,” urged her little children’s voices over the soft breeze. “Tell us about when we were little.”
“Oh, well, all right. My many flowers faded after a time. It made me sad at first. But all the while something even greater was in the works. The purple flowers dried and fell away, leaving the little seeds that my Creator had placed in my care. They began to gradually grow to maturity. Day after day they swelled until they burst forth from their shelters on my twigs. Some of the seeds blew away. Other seeds that fell down began to take root and grow on the rich earth. With the abundance of rain and the partial sunshine of the grove, you began to thrive.” Lilac beamed as she continued, “I have been so pleased to have you grow up here with me. Your being here has been my greatest joy.”
Her voice trailed off as a poignant pain seized her lilac heart. In their shady world, she could only expect that her children would probably never experience that same joy of blooming and making seeds to pass on their heritage of beauty to Farmer’s world.