FACES

My grandmother loved pansies. I remember in early Spring my grandmother, my Mom and I would go to the nursery to buy pansies and then plant them on the family cemetery plot. My mother and grandmother would pick out the plants with great care, comparing them and talking about their faces. My Mom explained to me that like people, each pansy has a unique face. Of course my seven year old imagination was fascinated by this concept. Every Spring I still think about it. My trip to the nursery to pick out pansies is an annual rite of passage. Carefully I scrutinize their faces and think about the two generations before me that did this same thing. I think about family and tradition and the faces of the pansies seem to smile at me.