FROM THE MAYOR’S OFFICE: A Winter Marigold 

A Winter Marigold 

Some years ago, in this column, I described how my son came home from first grade with a marigold planted in a paper cup. The little marigold flowered, went to seed and I saved the seeds to plant the next year. This ritual occurred year after year and from a single bloom came hundreds of flowers. All was fine with my yearly crop of “Henry’s Marigolds” until two years ago. I guess it was a bit of crop failure and a busy schedule but when I went to harvest the seeds most had been consumed by birds. I was able to collect enough to fill a small sandwich bag, a great contrast to large bags of seeds collected in previous years. I marked the bag with the date and tucked it away.

A long winter came and left and the frosts subsided and it was planting time. When I went to find the scant collection of seeds they were nowhere to be found. I did find a bag from a previous year and so I used them. Sadly, none of the seeds germinated – even after trying multiple times. I was feeling like something was lost, a sixteen year continuum over. My son who was proud of our little tradition told me that he planned to use a marigold on his business card! Now I felt a sense of failure – I never told him about the lost seeds.

I enlisted the help of my friend Amy whose family has been growing plants and flowers for the kind souls of Warwick for over 87 years. I brought her the bag of old seeds and told my sad story. Without  hesitation she took the bag and in a corner of her greenhouse tried to bring on life. Well, old seed is old seed and after many attempts even in the most coddled condition there was not a sprout. By now it was fall and I was dismayed at the prospects. Cleaning up my garden books and catalogs a small bag fell from between some pages. The bag was clearly marked “Henry’s Marigolds” 2020. Aha! The lost link.

Amy kindly took the newer batch of seeds and within a week they began to germinate – civilization was saved, the long line of marigolds continued!

Funny, a yeoman’s effort for a simple flower from seeds probably purchased by his teacher at a dollar store.

So, yesterday a small clay pot with a hardy little marigold with multiple blooms was delivered to my office. A marigold in winter and a certain joy that connected me to my son and to life. It reminded me of the happiness we find in the small rituals of life and even during the dark days of the year is the anticipation that all will be well and spring will return.