On Thursday — the day before the Newtown madness — “06880” reader Wendy Crowther sent this simple photo from her garden:
I liked it. But I wondered how I could use it on my blog.
Today, it’s perfect. The flower is a symbol of hope and beauty, at a time we desperately need both.
Thank you, Wendy. And thank you too, for this inspiring story that accompanied your photo:
The official botanical name of the perennial blooming in my yard is Helleborus Niger. The plant’s more homespun name is Christmas Rose because it bears its flowers in winter. But it’s not a member of the rose family at all.
I’ve had this plant in my garden for several years, but this is the first time it has bloomed. As the rest of my garden settles into dormancy, this little beauty lifts its head up to say hello. It makes me smile.
And though it’s not really a rose, it makes me think that the words to one of my favorite Christmas carols finally make a little more sense:
Lo, how a rose e’er blooming,
From tender stem hath sprung.
Of Jesse’s lineage coming,
As men of old have sung;
It came, a flow’ret bright,
Amid the cold of winter,
When half spent was the night.
