Leaving the Greenhouse

My son's preschool had their field trip to Moore's Greenhouse today. Mrs. Rhoades asked them all questions about what they think plants need in order to grow. As all the fabulous little people weaved in and out of the greenhouse ailes, their noses at perfect flower level, they reminded me of those wooden chinese snake toys that are really just lots of little wooden vertebrae connected with a barely-visible flexible wire. As you pull it along, the pieces don't seem connected, but when you look closely you can see that they are. When we walked into the tropical plant greenhouse one little boy next to me said, "ooooo, this is like a jungle. It looks just like the jungle in Avatar. I wonder if there are snakes in here?" One parent assured him that of course there aren't any snakes...just before Mrs. Rhoades announced that "sometimes we get some snakes in here". Being in the greehouses was like stepping into another world. The growing plants were mostly insulated and protected from the changing weather conditions and all of the outside forces that they couldn't withstand on their own just yet.

As I watched my son and all of his little soon-to-be kindergartener friends snake themselves in and out of aisles of baby plants, I couldn't help but reflect on the gift that the last almost-five years has been as I have greenhoused him, so to speak. As he has moved from my body, to my hip, and down onto his own two feet, our play, our conversations, our cuddle time, and even our "time outs" have been his emotional and psychological greehouses--places for him to expand himself and move into new space with all of the protection and nourishment he needs.

At the end of the tour Mrs. Rhoades told the children to look up at the roof of the glass greenhouse. She explained that when it hails, or when the snows get too heavy, pieces of the glass roof break. So then they have to go up there and fix it, replacing the broken pieces with new, strong pieces. It hit me hard in that moment that that's just what parenting is all about. We can protect our children and shield them for a time, giving them all of the love and tools they will need to thrive. But there will inevitably be times when the outside world breaks in, exposing them to risk and danger. But just as Mrs. Rhoades explained, in her matter-of-fact, reassuring way, we get up there and fix it. When things break into pieces, we can climb back up, use all the resources and support we can find, and do our best to make things whole. Just as Leonard Cohen says, "There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in." With God's grace and our children's creativity, intelligence, and enthusiasm, we can leave the greenhouse and plant our flowers in the garden.