To Watch a Tulip Die

I wrote this about a month ago before I set out on my summer adventure, to serve with the Little Sisters of the Poor. It makes more sense to me now, than when I first wrote it.

The depths portrayed in that 11:35 PM sky reflected the ripeness of night just waiting to be tasted. The cool and damp sand became acquainted with our hair as we stretched our bodies across the flat terrain, marveling at the wonder of being able to see our breath in the chill of the night. Short breaths in an out were followed by girly giggles; a novelty for native Floridians. Here, the freckles remained on our cheeks throughout the year.

Today was an especially important day in the calendar year, for it was my birthday. But, just as all birthdays are different; this year I only anticipated what was to enter into my life to make it even more spectacular. For the pride of surviving yet another year was something, in our innocence, we had yet to ponder. Yet, our bodies had become more mature. Our knobby legs had become powerful for running, and the removal of braces allowed us to smile at our crushes without fear. In fact, it seemed that our bodies were maturing too soon for our innocence we maintained.

The sound of waves creeping onto the shore silences our thoughts and I closed my eyes, letting the bubbles tickle my feet. I drowsily opened my eyes. The stars seem so close, I want to reach out, pick the most beautiful one out of the sky, and keep it for later. I lifted my arm and pretended to grab one, humoring myself. I laughed.

"Do you ever wonder what's up there?" asked my friend."I mean, it seems we only learn about the stars and the atmosphere in our Biology books," I looked over and raised an eyebrow-- my cue to get to the point.

"I think there's something bigger than us, up there. Something we'll never be able to ponder, out there in those stars, that sky; even in the Gulf!"

I reached my arm out one more time to the never-ending sky. My fingers stretched out, so tempting... And for the first time, I learned to accept the beauty of a mystery. I wondered if the person of the night sky somehow knew me by name. After all, it was the same sky I've seen every night since a young girl. I wondered, while I glanced at the stars, if they were glancing back. And while twinkling, smiling at their little admirer in the sand, twirling on the shore of the Gulf of Mexico, testing herself to see how long she could spin in circles without falling over.

I sat up, delicately brushing away the bits of sand from my hair, and thought of my father's tulips that always managed to find themselves on our dining room table. In all the midst of birthday excitement, it slipped my mind that I had to water them. How beautiful it is to watch their lives, and how beautiful It can be to watch their deaths. Growing up, I had three pink tulips in a clear vase on my bedside table, (the table had to be repainted white to best disguise the crayon marks). As the sunlight played peak-a-boo at dawn through my sheer white curtains, I would arise and measure just how much the tulips had grown throughout my slumber.

I turned toward my friend who now had her eyes closed, breathing in, slowly, that humid, sticky, salty air that was typical for an April night on the Gulf. She was falling asleep. I gingerly lifted myself off the moist ground and tip-toed knee-deep into the seemingly still waters. So much beauty beneath the water I could not see. My silent surroundings were interrupted by a plane taking off overhead. I stared once again at the blanketed sky and followed the red flashing light with my restless eyes.

My mind led me to a summer morning. I awoke, and sleepily turned my head to see my treasured tulips. To my surprise, they were pigmented in a scarlet red. Gravity allowed their weight to fall, and a loose petal lay contrasting with the snow-white of the table. With delicate fingers, I caressed the petal and brought it up to my nose, to breathe in the perfume of a flower that brought many smiles to my lips, and beats to my heart. I thought, if we live as if a flower, maintaining our heavenly goodness by being drenched in love, made for love, and life giving to those whom we encounter, we can pass on to Heaven, yet still bring life to those who knew us. A tulip dies a death yet gives life.

Life- ah life. Life so beautifully colored by faith. I glanced back at the trillions of stars as they winked at me from seemingly billions of miles away. To know that a death could be fruitful and life-giving relieved me in knowing that there truly could be a purpose for this Earth. It was my first introduction to truth.

I walked further into the waters of the Gulf, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and felt deeply as life surrounded me, held me, and protected me. I rose from the water and let the soft wind brush my cheeks. I felt as though a new creature, overflowing with love. I inhaled the salty, sticky air; and how sweet it tasted.