April Showers Bring May Flowers

For my Grandmother:

A hard long winter brought devastation to the ranch. Deep cold hard freezes, bitter howling winds, and the twenty-fifth month of an ongoing record-breaking drought drove her and her family from the little house on the prairie they called home. Sent away to a new and unfamiliar place, she, her husband, and her daughters wept, the devastation and loneliness of this relocation hit deeper and colder than the freeze and more bitter than any wind found at home.

After three long years of prayer, tears, and heartache, they finally returned home. Home was no longer home; everything had faded with time, and the shimmers of the past were left behind. All remained bitter and frozen, except the flower garden. The yellow roses, a historic institution on that land, planted generations ago, shone brighter and warmer than any sun. The peonies softly glowed their hot pink so cheeky and sassy one couldn't help but laugh. The tulips grew short and low yet fiery with the life the land still had left to give. In all of this, a new flower emerged. A hydrangea bush, different, fresh, unknowing of the pain endured. Its petals were soft and kind. Their prayers had been answered, hope existed, and a new chapter now began.