BY H. SCOTT WILSON
Flower power blooms caring and sharing.
At least it has in my life.
I will always remember the first flowering plant I owned. It was a potted geranium given to me by my paternal grandmother when I was 5 years old. Now, 74 years later, that magic moment glows in my aging memory.
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H. Scott Wilson |
After I got married, plants were still important. Following the birth of our first of five sons nearly 52 years ago, I planted a pear, an apple and a plum tree. The trees, like the boys, grew up straight and strong.
In succeeding years, there would be other houses and yards where I would plant trees, raspberries, strawberries, grapes, various vegetables — and always a variety of flowers.
The last house I owned was in Marysville. It had been my boyhood home from age 3 to 18. After the death of my wife, I sold the house in April 2000 and moved into an apartment house across from the Sen. Henry M. Jackson Memorial Park. The basketball courts and baseball fields there are an attraction for the children in my apartment house.
Later, another attraction for the children was the flower garden I planted with pansies, marigolds, Martha Washington geraniums and a plant that produced a profusion of lavender daisies. When the last flowers died in the late fall, I replaced them with winter pansies and flower cabbages.
My apartment is on the ground floor of the four-story apartment house. Next door were a brother and sister, Billy, age 11, and Ashley, 12.
Each volunteered to help me water the plants using a large plastic watering can.
The word spread and soon other children were knocking on my door, volunteering to water my garden. Some children even volunteered on rainy days.
I never offered the children money for their work. I felt their reward was the enjoyment of their self-appointed tasks.
Last spring, Ashley insisted on helping me plant a dozen marigolds.
Then the fever spread.
Her father brought home some topsoil for the garden. He later yelled at an apartment house employee for stepping on "our" garden.
Dave got the planting fever from his children as well as me. To satisfy his renewed interest in gardening, he planted flowers in another area in the front. Then he really caught fire and offered the apartment owner to take care of all yard work without pay. By midsummer Dave had flowers and vegetables growing on three sides of the building.
He also volunteered to mow and water the lawn. He became the volunteer groundskeeper, an action starting with my little 4-foot-by-19-foot garden.
During my second year there I had a pleasant surprise. Two dormant chrysanthemums appeared, displaying a profusion of lavender flowers.
I can’t predict what will occur this spring after the flowers bloom. However, I will welcome all of the volunteer help from the little people.
The garden and the spontaneous response of the children and Dave have taught this old man a lesson.
As the colorful flowers will bloom once again, they will inspire caring and sharing.
H. Scott Wilson, who will be 80 April 6, has lived most of his life in Snohomish County, graduating from Marysville High School in 1940. He’s spent much of his life writing for weekly newspapers, including one in Mountlake Terrace, where he also was on the city council. He also was a public information officer before retiring in 1984. Since then he’s been involved in writing groups and tai chi.
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