The first spring after buying our first home, I discovered that our neighbors had given us a little gift. A perfect view of their gorgeous flowering plum tree, which we could enjoy from the comfort of the couch in our family room.
For the brief time it was in full bloom, I reveled in its beauty, which filled my soul in ways I cannot describe.
So what was my first landscaping decision after we purchased a second home in the neighborhood less than two years later? Why, plant a flowering plum tree, of course. And locate it strategically so that I could kick back and bask in it from the recliner in my family room.
Imagine my disappointment the following spring when instead of progressing from bud to flower to leaf, it skipped the second step entirely, leaving me wanting for those stunning pink blossoms. I rationalized by attributing its meager flowering capacity to the tree’s immaturity.
Unfortunately the same disappointment repeated itself year after year after year. We’ve lived in this house almost thirteen years and I can count on two fingers the number of times the tree has rewarded us with a beautiful display of flowers. What a downer.
I realized fairly early on that plum trees need to cross-pollinate. You can’t just slap one plum tree in the ground and expect it to be fruitful. My expectation of springtime blossoms aplenty was built on misinformation. I was longing for something that simply could not be. At least not without some intervention on my part.
How often do our lives play out in a similar fashion? How many of us have imagined outcomes in life that have yet to be realized? And what can we do to mitigate the inevitable frustration that accompanies unmet expectations?
Let’s go back to my plum tree analogy. In my case, I was lucky to discover the fault in my planning. Armed with the realization that in order for my plum tree to produce blossoms it needed a member of the plum family in close proximity, the solution was obvious. Plant another plum tree.
But…I was too lazy to do that. Besides, we really only had room for one plum tree at that point. So I picked option B. Which was, get over the loss of a few meager weeks of pink blossoms and be grateful for what the tree had to offer the other nine months of the year.
That tree has provided shade for me as I’ve sat in my backyard to keep an eye on my frolicking children. It’s housed dozens of birds, providing entertainment galore. My kids once picked its tiny fruit (it’s a flowering plum, after all), ground them down to make a fascinating concoction, called it “plum butter” and sold it to the neighbors on our street.
Not to mention that my tree gratifies us with lovely purple leaves 6 months out of the year. Why would I focus on the lack of pink flowers when it has blessed us with all that? Even if the pink blossoms were the reason I desired it in the first place?
We would do well to do our homework before pursuing certain dreams. But sometimes even the most careful research can fall short in producing desired outcomes. Life still has a way of presenting pitfalls and challenges to our hopes and goals. We must not let our expectations curb our efforts to appreciate all that is good in life.
Our didactic plum tree is on the chopping block as we prepare to add onto our home this year. Though the disappointment of over eleven springs with nary a blossom to bless my soul is deep, I am reminded to be grateful. Grateful for all the blessings in life that came to me unawares. And grateful for the knowledge that joy can be found in the most unexpected places. Even in flowering plum trees that refuse to flower.
Yesterday morning I peeked out my window to discover a few pink blossoms gracing the branches of our tree. As if to say, “Sometimes you get exactly what you wish for. Sometimes you don’t. Either way, if you want to be happy, be grateful.”
