Read by Matilda Longbottom

Every May, Mom’s two-foot crystal vases of pink peonies graced our bay window, filling the room with their sweet fragrance and cheerful presence. For years, I thought peonies only came in pink—until one fateful farmers market trip 10 years ago.

There, amidst the bustling stalls, a bouquet of peach and purple flowers stopped me in my tracks. Wrapped in violet wax paper, the colors popped like fireworks. The vendor’s tag read Coral Charm Peony & Baptisia (wild indigo). I was enchanted. The bouquet was so lovely that I shared half with Mary, my co-teacher, who shared my love for flowers.

The Baptisia, alas, didn’t last long. Its buds dropped all over my table within days. But the peonies were another story. They opened slowly, transforming from coral to pink to cream, as feathery and dramatic as a vintage fan. While Coral Charm peonies were technically listed as “fragrant” (or sometimes “not fragrant”) to my nose, they smelled faintly of…well, bad breath. Still, I adored them and searched the market for that Lancaster County vendor every year. Sadly, he never returned, and I wasn’t about to drive two hours to investigate.

Then came Mary’s surprising gift: an ugly, shriveled peony bulb in a bag from a prestigious New England farm. She had stretched her tight budget to buy it for me—$25 for a single bulb! I was stunned and touched. The instructions were precise: don’t plant it near other peonies. Naturally, my husband Mike planted it too close anyway.

For two years, nothing much happened. The bulb sent up a single spindly sprout that alternated between drying out and drowning in rainwater. It was, quite literally, a stick in the mud. Calls to the bulb company got me nowhere—no replacement, no refund, just polite indifference.

Determined to try again, Mike and I ordered another bulb online. This time, we planted it with extra care, sprinkling our efforts with prayers and wishes. And finally, success! That Spring, our yard became a showstopper. One glorious bloom after another unfolded, each starting as a tight, dark pink bud before opening into a birdbath of coral petals and golden stamens. The spectacle was so stunning that cars stopped, and strangers got out to snap pictures.

And wouldn’t you know it? Not long after, I discovered a peony farm nearby with every color and variety imaginable. Who knew?

With our yard now bursting with Coral Charm peonies, I often think I could sell them. But then I remember Mary’s quiet generosity. That scruffy little bulb may have taken its sweet time, but it brought me not just flowers, but a lasting reminder: a thing of beauty, especially one gifted with love, is truly a joy forever. ❖

About the Author: Hannah Dougherty Campbell, a spirited wordsmith with a heart as lush as her garden, hails from the suburbs of Philadelphia. Inspired by the beauty of nature and the resilience of the human spirit, Hannah found solace and creativity in crafting heartfelt poetry. With a background in teaching and a passion for nurturing creativity, she imparts her wisdom through her creative-writing classes, where she encourages others to explore the depths of their souls through the written word. Her cherished tradition of assigning flowers to personalities has blossomed into a family heirloom, enriching the lives of her loved ones and students alike. Through her work, she reminds us all of the delicate dance between nature and humanity, where every petal tells a story and every soul blooms in its own unique way.