Why Unexpected?

My poinsettias were beautiful last year. Maybe because they were alive....I usually kill them off at least a week before Christmas.

Not only did they survive Christmas with splendor, they continued to grow into the spring. They lost their red leaves, seeming to know that fresh green growth matches spring better than the deep red...blood red.

The whole time I assumed they would bloom again. I imagined their beauty accenting perfectly the feeling of the season. I was relieved I wouldn't have to buy more this year.

Two weeks til Christmas and they, still with green leaves, sat in my window while I googled. Did you know that a poinsettia requires twelve hours of darkness each night for six weeks, in order to bloom? Not just dimness, but complete darkness, uninterrupted.

I didn't know.

I should have planned ahead. Along with water and fresh soil, sunlight and minimized drafts; I should have studied, I should have known.

Christmas Eve was all it should be. Laughter and excitement, quiet moments and reflection. I looked up over my children's heads, and then, looked again.

Really?

On Christmas Eve?

Undeserved and so unexpected, but there it was.

I walked across the room, I needed closer inspection; the deep crimson leaves, small but leaving no doubt, were pushing their way out, ringing the petite yellow bloom.

Christmas miricle?

I think so.

Really not so unique to the season though. The sheading of outgrown beauty, warm sunshine growth, long...prolonged night darkness, beauty renewed.

I should have known.