Last week, just outside the door to my work, amongst the piles of snow, tens of crocus flowers bloomed. Having felt the extra warmth from this protected area against the old brick walls, they managed to burst forth from the newly thawed earth. This swath of spring color was so needed after such a long and snowy winter. With their sunny brightness, resembling the pastels of all things Easter, they seemed to give us hope. Spring was on its way.
But then, at the end of the week, the forecast called for another storm. We wondered what was to become of the flowers as they were to be covered by snow. The snowstorm came dumping 6 to 8 inches of heavy, wet snow across the area. Enough that most towns in the area had an April Fool’s snow day from school. More than a light blanket, it had a smothering weight to it. The flowers surely wouldn’t make it through this.
Days later, that snow melted, once again showing all the same beautiful crocuses. They did survive the drastic change of weight and weather on their tender petals. Delicate as they were, they showed a resiliency. Unexpected strength. If such a fragile and dainty thing can survive such a change on its being, why can’t we as human beings go through changes as easily? Why do we see the weight of problems as such a plight and finality while we are in them?
We should learn the lesson of the early spring crocus and stand tough because when the weight of the snow in our lives melts, we will once again be living as the strong, colorful and capable beings we know we truly are.