Wed., May 9, 2018
Song of Songs 2:12 – Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come; the cooing of doves is heard in our land.
My heart sang when I noticed the white flowers peaking out between the dark green leaves on the north side of our porch. They beckoned me to come take a glimpse.
Yes, the trillium are just beginning go bloom.
Trillium are a flower from my childhood. I grew up on a Wisconsin dairy farm. Our land included acres of woods. I always felt spring had arrived when blankets of trillium covered the floor of the woods. They would arrive around Mother’s Day and grace the earth for about two weeks. Normally pure white flowers, towards the end of their blooming season, some trillium will have pink streaks across their petals.
This is how I remember celebrating Mother’s Day. After morning chores, we would go to church, which was followed by dinner at home. (Growing up, the meal in the middle of the day was not called lunch. It was called dinner. The last meal of the day was called supper.) In the afternoon, we would take empty ice cream buckets to the woods and pick trillium. Buckets of them. We’d each be carrying two or three buckets of the tri-stared flowers. After getting them home, we would display them throughout the house. Their beauty would bring a breath of spring to the house for the next week or so.
In Wisconsin where I live, trillium are a protected flower. This means they are not to be picked unless they are on your private property. The buckets of trillium picked off our land? Perfectly fine. One year while in college on Mother’s Day, we had made our annual trek to pick trillium. I wanted to take just a few back with me to college. I set a bucket of freshly-picked flowers on the floorboards by the front passenger seat in the car. During the 150+ mile trip back to school, I kept an eye on the speedometer. If I was stopped, I didn’t want to lose the precious trillium.
Today, my heart feels like spring has finally arrived. The trillium are here. A season of singing has commenced. The cooing of people’s voices as they “ooh” over them can be heard.
For this, I am grateful.
Lord God – the delicateness, the beauty, the memories certain flowers drum up in our hearts and minds. All created by you. Just for our benefit. Thank you so much. Amen.
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