Kathy Baker: Stand tall

An amaryllis plant stands tall on my kitchen counter. I wonder if it has any idea how beautiful it is. At first, it was simply a nondescript, brown knob. Then, seemingly overnight, it became a tall, green stalk. Little by little, a perfect flower appeared. Soon, I thought, it will shrivel and die, as plants do. But that’s not what happened. Over time, three more opulent blooms arrived; each one a perfect sculpture, each one a miracle; deep red in color; velvety, lush. How, I wondered, did they grow so well, stuck so close to one another? The plant stood, calm and bright, throughout the mayhem that obliterates my kitchen counter during the holidays.

It stood tall, surrounded by children’s crayons and markers and poster paper and scissors and tape. And smears of buttery crumbs from all the cookie baking. Alongside a wine cork, a couple of receipts, and crumpled sticky notes that hopelessly kept reminding me of the next task at hand. It was a beacon of joy amidst chaos.