Being back in Kentucky revived many memories from my childhood. One of my precious memories is of my late grandmother is that she had hydrangea plants beside her front porch. When I was small I didn't know they were hydrangea plants, I called them "Snowball Plants" because to me the blooms looked like snowballs. I don't know how I reconciled the pink and blue ones with my snowball theory but logic never was my long suit.
My grandmother also had a dishpan of Methodist Plants that sat on her front porch. I remember the dishpan was of those white metal ones with a red stripe around the rim. Methodist plants (according to the internet) were a Southern Passalong plant. You were to pass them along to friends. In the case of the Methodist Plant, you were to pass them along to show how you share God's love.
Well, while I was in Kentucky, my mom told me that she had the last surviving specimens of Grandma's Methodist Plants and she offered to share them with me. I was planning to get my plants from her on the last night we were in Kentucky.
My mom kept the Methodist Plants on a screened area near her back door with her other plants. The plants were sitting on a ledge beside some brick steps that led to my mom's basement. On the next to the last night we were in Kentucky, a rather large storm came through the area. There was rain and strong wind. The wind blew all her plants down onto the brick steps and their destruction EXCEPT the Methodist Plants.
It was as if Grandma was protecting her plants for me.
But the plants were safe and I put my share in a little pot and put them in the cup holder for their trip to my house in New Mexico.
Thank you, Grandma. I love you.
