A friend was thinning a patch of bleeding hearts that were over crowded.
"I will take some of your friends to another plot of earth where they can find water and sunshine."
A little girl was watching her. And listening.
"Do you speak Plant?" she asked.
"Well, I do talk to them when I am working, so I guess I do. Yes I speak Plant." This added credence to her skill. It is true that she cares about her flowers, and trees. The little girl skipped away. In a few minutes she came back.
"I speak Bird," she announced.
"You do? That is wonderful! I have sometimes wished I could talk to the birds, but so far I can't. I am so glad you can."
The child skipped into another part of the garden.
The same woman had a tree that was coming to the end of its life. It was a magnificent tree, and she would miss it. But if it was time, she would have it removed. But first she asked an arborist to come visit first. He arrived and while she and her husband chatted on the deck not too far from the tree, he went over to the trunk and laid his hands on it respectfully. He kept them there for many minutes in quiet reflection.
"Is it time to take her down? I am okay if we have to... she left one of her offspring over there."
"No, I believe she may have five good years left," was his assessment.
"Thank you! That is good news."
The arborist deftly removed the diseased wood and this year its blossoms were robust and plenteous.
Who among us can listen so well? Understand people we care about that sometimes speak a different language? I admit that it can be confusing. People who are feeling insecure tend to brag. Others who are in love might never say a word. Others try to mask fear with bravado, or apathy. People who are hurt disguise it with anger.
There is a beautiful story about an angel wife who could sense her husband's feelings by placing her hands on his chest. No words. No explanations. Just touch.
It reminds me that not all things worth expressing fit into syllables.
