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Little Miracles.

Breadman's Daughter| Views: 362

I love little miracles. Small wonders. Tiny things that so often go unnoticed in the rush and race of life. The scramble to make it through the day. The flop into bed.

A lot of my days are like that.

The simple quiet and exquisite beauty that surrounds me and supports my little place on earth is so often missed. Blind Bonniness. But every now and then it roars. Gives me a bitch-slap and wakes me up. Look at this, you fool. Look at how sweet and wonderful this is. Just look.

That happened one day early last Fall.

The genesis of this miracle actually began much earlier with one of my herb planters on our deck off the kitchen. Mr. Basil. He had a little something for the sassy Ms. Tomato Plant who had surreptitiously moved into his pot. It was a cozy little affair. But platonic. No cross pollination. Nothing nefarious.

This herbal arrangement continued well into Autumn. Ms. TP kept growing bigger and bigger, spreading her stems all over Mr. B and before we knew it Ms. TP was popping little yellow flowers everywhere.

I kept an eye on Ms. TP throughout the Fall while the fierce winds blew, and the savage rain wreaked havoc across our deck. Mr. Basil succumbed to the merciless elements and perished one bleak stormy night. Sad but true.  But Ms. TP prevailed. Then December happened. It was time to cut back the herbs that weren’t hardy enough to survive the winter. It was the humane thing to do. Really. And that included Ms. TP who was well on her way to the Big Tomato Farm in Heaven. Again, sad but true.

But here’s the little miracle part to this cultivating story.

As I was clipping Ms. TP I discovered, much to my surprise, awe, and amazement, that my Tomato Warrior Queen, survivor of the most pernicious evil attacks levied by the Autumn Devil, had given birth. In amongst the clippings were two perfect tiny green baby tomatoes. I held them reverently in the palm of my hand, gazed at them with what I can only describe as love, and then carefully carried them out of the wicked cold and into the warm embrace of my kitchen windowsill. It is here that they have been lounging and luxuriating, and slowly transforming into a couple of cute little cherries. Tomatoes, that is.

In the Spring I will plant these little miracles in the pot that housed their mother, the acclaimed Ms. Tomato Plant. And watch for more miracles. More wonder. More marvelous curiosities.