The house where I spent my misfitting teen years had a long brick planter box in front. In it lived various dwarf conifers that provided an all-green frame for the living room windows. Once a year in spring, the box sprang to a more colorful life with a profusion of blue-violet grape hyacinths. They always cheered me up for those few weeks of the year when they brought some much needed blue sky into gray-gray Oregon and into my own distressed life.

To this day, whenever I see grape hyacinths I’m transported back in time and simultaneously reminded of my painful youth and delighted by their vibrant color. They’re a tiny bulb, growing not much taller than six inches, but nevertheless, they manage to add a lot of joy to the spring landscape.

This year I’ve decided to stop associating this Lilliputian messenger with so much heavy emotional baggage. I will simply enjoy them. I will simply allow them to transform my heart into a field of sunny days. I will allow them to heal my old scars.

CONTEMPLATIONS

• What old wounds could you open to healing?
• What tiny comfort can you offer someone else?
• How will you delight yourself or others today?