Where Flowers Bloom
My sister and I climbed high atop the rocky mountain. There was nothing there except rocks, stones and gravel. It was isolated yet beautiful.
We sat bathing in the soft wind, the warm sun and the peaceful quiet. There she started talking, telling me how awful it was for us as kids. She talked about the beatings, the constant ridicule - the fear, shame and terro. She apologized for not protecting me and for leaving.
I didn't believe it had been so bad. She said she had been afraid watching me slowly die from the drugs and eating disorder. She had reached out to friends, but I withdrew, trying to become invisible.
I'm not sure why we hadn't realized before, but a few feet from us, two flowers, side by side were growing in the rocks. Stunned, we wondered how could they possibly grow in the middle of all the hardness? How could they survive?
Somehow they had managed to grow. I turned to my sister. "We survived." She broke down crying, "It was bad. How did we survive?"
I looked up at the sky. I knew. We lived in a tight Jewish community. I came home from school and was surprised to see a nun sitting with my mother who had been dying. I believe she prayed for us and God heard.
God put those two flowers there for us - to show us- even in the hard places He's there helping us to grow, helping us to be strong and keeping us safe.