Jenny and her two young children enjoyed working in their garden together.

Satisfying, as well as productive!

Jenny had inherited her love of plants, both indoor and garden plants, from her grandmother and her mother. She was sure her children would continue to love the pleasure of gardening. They'd be the next generation of gardeners!

Jenny had bought a gift for her grandmother's birthday – a beautiful African violet with stunning flowers. Her grandmother enjoyed its beauty on her kitchen window-sill each day, brightening its corner. 

Even its earth smelt good, its dark green leaves were like velvet, the flower petals were like jewels.

However, within a few weeks, and despite her best efforts, the plant withered, the flowers falling off. Jenny's grandmother had never failed with African violets before. When she next visited, Jenny was distressed to see her grandmother's disappointment. They talked about ways to bring it back to good health. It did not look promising.

Five days later, her grandmother died suddenly from a heart attack.

Filled with grief, Jenny took back the plant, and repositioned it. It recovered well, and the flowers were soon just as stunning as the originals. Jenny was relieved. Her grandmother would be happy if she could see it now, Jenny thought to herself.

She decided to offer the flourishing African violet to her mother, who appreciated the reminder of her own mother, and the pleasure she had received from the stunning house plant. Jenny's mother cared for it diligently.

For a while it bloomed beautifully on her kitchen window-sill. However, it suddenly took a turn for the worse. The leaves browned and the flowers fell. On Jenny's next visit to her mother, she was horrified to see the imminent demise of the plant.

Five days after her visit, her mother became ill. She was rushed to the Emergency Department, but died. A heart attack.

Jenny again took back the unfortunate plant, a gift to two generations. She tended it with loving care, weeping for both her grandmother and her mother. The plant revived, looking beautiful again. Perhaps it was just a coincidence that the plant's distress seemed to forewarn of two deaths.

The following year, Jenny was startled to notice that the plant had lost some flowers … scattered forlornly along the window sill. Over the next few days, the leaves started to turn brown.

Jenny looked at the plant, tears welling in her eyes.

"I have two young children!" she wept. "Is this your sign to me? Please don't die! I can't leave my children without a mother!"

The following morning, the plant looked decidedly worse.

"Please live," she begged it. "Think of the little ones – they need me! You must live!"

"Jim," she called to her husband, "Can you please look after the girls? I need to see the doctor!"

"Yes, I will, of course ... but why?" Jim asked, surprised at Jenny's note of urgency. 

"Because the African violet is dying!" she replied. "It mustn't die! Talk to it! Tell it that it must live!"

Five days later Jenny had emergency surgery for a congenital heart problem. She lived. The plant struggled for a while …. then it too revived. It has flourished on Jenny's kitchen window-sill ever since.