Forget-Me-Nots

   I finally got around to transplanting the forget-me-nots into a larger pot. They were looking a little cramped in the small blue pot I put them in. I hoped that more space would make them happy.
  The fact that I have them is something of an accident. Every year the church gives little gifts to all the women over 18 on Mother's Day. I feel very self conscious about accepting the gift. I'm not a mother, I'm a step mother and there is a big difference between the two. Mother's Day is a day to celebrate those women who have children either by birth or adoption. Stepmother's Day is for those of us who acquired our families through marriage. To me accepting the Mother's Day gift at church is disrespectful to those who are actually mothers.
   This year I stayed in the chapel after the service and talked to someone and missed the people that were handing out the gifts. The gift this year was a small pot with forget-me-not seeds in them. Along with the pot was a bookmark in case the seeds didn't sprout. I left to go to the second hour class relieved that I missed the gift. I saw women walking around with their pots in hand. No one noticed that I didn't have one. I was grateful.
   The gratitude ended when C met me in the common area to go home. He had two small pots in his hand. One was for me and one was for the elderly woman we drive to church sometimes. I was not happy, but we were in public so I bit my tongue as we walked to the car. More than anything I wanted to leave my pot on the ground by the church so someone who deserved the gift would have one. I didn't want the pot to end up in the garbage. The seeds deserved a chance to grow. When we got home,I put the pots in the kitchen window.
  As the weeks went on one of the pots sprouted several seedlings. The other pot had no sprouts at all. The elderly woman had been given a pot by someone else so I could not give them to her. I had to keep them. I can't bear to throw away a plant that is still alive.
   The seedlings got bigger and outgrew the small pot that they came in. We had a ceramic pot in the garage that I thought would work. I got some potting soil and planted the seedling in the new pot. For good measure I said a little prayer of blessing on the seedlings that they would grow strong. It couldn't hurt.
  The seedlings grew in the pot. I could tell when they needed water as they would droop a little. After a good drink, they would stand up and look strong again. All during the summer I watched over them as I did the dishes and went about other tasks in the kitchen.
   A few weeks ago I thought they looked cramped. It was not surprising. There were three plants sharing the pot. It was time for a larger home for them. I looked in the garage for a larger pot. I found tons of small ones and very large ones, but none the right size.
  Over the last weekend, I found the right pot. It was cream with pictures of colourful flowers on the outside and it matched the pot of violets that are also in my kitchen window. Last Monday I put them into the new pot.
   I checked on them earlier today and they seem much happier. They have room for their big green leaves and plenty of root room too. I gave them another good drink.
   I hope that they will survive over the winter. The bookmark says that they are supposed to have sky-blue flowers. Sky-blue is one of my favourite colours so I hope they blossom.  I'm pretty sure they are not a zone four plant so putting them outside is not an option. Even if they don't blossom, they have nice bright green leaves.
   I have gone through most of my life thinking that I was bad with plants. For years I killed every plant I bought or was given. No matter what I did eventually they all died. Four years ago I got a pot of violets from a friend. The violets are still alive and thriving. It gave me confidence to try growing other things like flowers and vegetables. We have a nice garden.
   President Dieter Uchtdorf of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, gave a talk on forget-me-nots about a year ago. He listed five things that we should not forget, one for each petal of a forget-me not flower. Maybe I need to add a sixth to his list. Forget not that you can do more than you think.