Milkweed has always been one of my favorite plants. The seeds, whose only strategy is to hang on to their gauzy kite and fly with the wind, seem incredibly trusting. I love that they are packed tightly in their pod which is shaped like half a heart. Then one day
without any announcement, the half heart breaks open and spills out a cloud of feathery parachuters.
There is no way to document their flights, or track the ones that took root. But it happens every year so I guess something is working.
It can be hard to know if the efforts we make to be kind in our marriages and in the world take root. Impossible, sometimes. I read a story about a man named Richard who was pouring all his money into creating a shelter for abused children and
yet he was failing miserably. His board asked to dump the idea. Richard left the room to pray and felt an unmistakable answer.
"NO!"
So he kept going. A wealthy investor asked about the project and when he realized that Richard was giving his own money he felt motivated to write a big check. The project took off. They were able to serve thousands of children whose lives had crumbled around them.
Although he could believe the project had made a difference, one day he had unmistakable evidence. A young woman approached him and thanked him. Her parents were drug addicts and she had lived in the shelter with her brother. Right before they were admitted the foster care system had threatened to separate her and her little brother. Because of his project they were able to stay
together.
Kind of makes me want to believe in milkweed pods.
