White Iris, by Alan Weihausen
April, 2025

 My grandmother grew up poor because they were sharecroppers. She would tell stories about having to leave their home in the middle of the night because some farmer had work in the next county or the season was over, so they were always moving to find work.

She said that her mom would always try to plant flowers at whatever house they were living in because she always had hope that they would settle somewhere for a little while longer...always planting...always hoping. Her favorite flower to plant was the iris. My grandmother said that many times they planted bulbs and flowers they never saw bloom because they would have to leave before the plant ever came up. One day after they had to move again, she asked if they could plant flowers.  Her mom gave up and they never planted flowers again. It was sad for her to see her mom give up...sad to watch her mom lose hope.  As a little girl, she said that once she had her own home, she would plant flowers all over her yard…she would not lose hope.

In Romans 5: 3-5, Paul says “let us rejoice in our sufferings because we know that suffering produces perseverance, perseverance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint.” 

I am proud to say that when I think of my Grandma, I always picture her standing in her yard next to her roses...her flower beds...and her white irises. When she passed away, her yard was filled with flowers in bloom…as if every petal was singing her unbroken spirit home with voices of color.

Nestled in a little corner of our land is a pocket of white irises. They were planted back in the late 1800's at an old farmhouse. Today, there is nothing left of the old homestead...but every April, the white irises planted over 100 years ago still bloom.

If you knew the seeds you plant today would thrive 100 years from now, what kind of legacy would you want to leave?