It’s a glorious day today in England and I received a note from a stranger.
The envelope through the door contains a handwritten note (I must emphasise, it’s HANDWRITTEN) with a lovely picture (a proper glossy picture, professionally printed one that you don’t see often these days).
It read, “We had 10 of these & 110 people – collected nearly £2,000 for Jubilee Lunch to donate to Age Concern. Thanks for ceanothus.”
The lovely purple-blue ceanothus is from our front garden. It was planted by my neighbour Nigel a few years ago.
One morning 2 weeks ago, a lady knocked on my door. She apologised for asking, and said in childlike excitement that our ceanothus was gorgeous and it was just the right colour she had been looking for. “I’ve got white and red flowers. I just need BLUE.”
She explained that she was running a fund-raising event at Otterbourne, our neighbouring village, at the weekend, and she desperately needed beautiful flowers for her flower display at the table. She needed this vibrant blue. “Could I have some?”
“Of course! Please help yourself.” I took out our flower clippers for her and she was happily cutting the flowers, beaming with joy.
For us, this ceanothus has grown completely out of control. It’s nearly swallowed up the house. It’s going to be like the boa constrictor eating an elephant in the story of The Little Prince.
I’ve forgotten all about this lady and ceanothus, until I received the note and photo this morning.
It’s a wonderful feeling to know that our ceanothus, thanks to the nature’s grace, had landed itself a role in a local charity event for the elderly.
This ceanothus is a beautiful plant as always. It’s even more so with a touch of human connection and kindness.