My Lily Friend

Last week when I dropped my good friend off at her house, she invited me to take a quick peek at her back yard before driving off. Her Tiger Lilies were in full bloom, surrounded by lush Hosta, ringing a very large shade tree. It was indeed an exquisite and gloriously beautiful sight.

However, my heart was captured by some dark green leaves in a black plastic gallon flower pot sitting next to another tree awaiting transplanting -- some Lilies of the Valley that a mutual friend had brought from a patch in her yard. Apparently they had been very difficult to dig up, the roots being very thick and tightly intertwined. I lingered momentarily, commenting that Lilies of the Valley were one of my very favorite flowers as a little girl.

A day or two later, the giver of the transplants sent me a message in which she briefly commented on the flowers she had dug up and given away. (She'd also brought me a small volunteer Red Bud sapling from her yard at just about the same time.) I really yearned to ask for some of the Lilies of the Valley too. But I knew it would be greedy of me to ask, especially since they had been so stubborn to deal with. I decided to wait until another season to beg some.

My phone rang yesterday. It was good friend No. 1 saying she had a black plastic bucket for me to pick up. As it turns out, she had decided to only plant half of those Lilies of the Valley. I was to come get the rest so I could have some in my yard too. I squealed in delight. Might as well have been my birthday. I thanked her profusely and promised to stop by very soon.

She figured the lilies would spread out in my yard at the same time as they spread out in hers and that way we'd both happily enjoy. It's no wonder she keeps landing at the top of my cherished friends list. She and I didn't actually know each other when we were little girls, but if we had, I just know she'd have been the kind of friend who'd have offered me some of her candy. I just know it.

Now every spring when the little patch of deep green leaves and fragrant tiny white bells shoot up on the shady side of my house, I'll not only be wafted back to the halcyon days of my childhood, but I'll simultaneously feel a gentle tug on heartstrings that have been knitted, through the gift of these posies, to the heart of my Lily of the Valley Buddy.