failure to thrive... aka The parable of my Christmas Cactus

When I was a little girl my mom had a Christmas Cactus. As an adult I watched one my mother in law had thrive. When I saw healthy looking ones at Aldi a few years ago, full of blooms yet to unfold, I bought one, full of anticipation of the beauty to come, thankful for memories of two important relationships that have grown and blossomed over the years.

Imagine my dismay, when instead of opening, the flowers dropped.

                                     

I have difficulty giving up on anything that has life in it. The plant itself was green and showed no signs of rot or decay. I reasoned that it might have been a little colder than I thought when I bought it and the transfer from the store to the car to the house might have affected it negatively, so I held onto the plant, looking forward to being rewarded with bloms the next year. I watered it. I let it dry out like I was supposed to. I kept it in a safe place. I was excited to see buds forming. It was early, but I would take a Thanksgiving Cactus. I forgot how long the process is from bud to bloom. When I put my Christmas tree up I had yet to see a fully formed flower and I had to move the plant. I did so very carefully to prevent knocking the buds off. I kept my eye on those promises of beauty to come. And watched them shrivel up to nothing. I did some research and found out Christmas Cactus don't like to be moved. I had moved it. I accepted full responsibility for my disappointment. I found a place the plant could stay year round. Same story Christmas 2020. I was confused. The greenery was thriving. It had easily doubled in size. Maybe it was root bound and needed to be repotted. So I did that in the spring of 2021. 

Late summer 2021, in anticipation of Christmas flowers, I looked at several different websites for how to care for the Cactus.

 Wow. If only I had done my research before acting.

• they don't like to be moved
• they need darkness for a certain number of hours
• they do like to be rootbound

The failure to thrive was on me, not the plant. I assumed I knew how to care for it. My initial research was to skim, not investigate. I acted out of ignorance, with no intent to stunt or harm, but my good intentions, my assumptions, my half hearted investment in figuring out the issue, did nothing to help the plant. I was fully responsible for the growth of only greenery for the next couple of years so when I saw Christmas Cactus at Rural King in November 2021, I bought one. It's the one pictured above. I did all the right things, knowing that to get it home meant moving it and losing some of the blooms. But I was prepared for that and appreciated several beautiful flowers before it began dropping buds. It was enough for this year. 

Look at the gift I found today:

The white pot pictured below holds my old plant. If you look close, you might see the gift I found there too. Need help? On the right, mid frame, there is a white bud. It's grown larger than any others have historically. I might get an early spring bloom. 

It will be enough.

 

Ever since I did my research on Christmas Cactus this summer a thought keeps popping up in my head:

How much healthier would my relationships be if, instead of assuming I know what is needed or what is best, I took the time to pay attention, to look at what is happening, to ask questions, to listen and to act on what I find out about what my people need in order to be able to thrive and grow to maturity?...