Wendell was a retired farmer who had moved to town. He had worked hard all of his life. He had raised a large family. Most people thought he had moved to town so he could rest and take it easy. Such a plan was not for Wendell. He became a gardener .A hobby at first, but then it evolved into an obsession.

It was a rare garden in a 5-mile area that did not include at least one plant that had originally been grown in Wendell’s garden.

Wendell had all of the things that a good gardener needs. He had incredible patience and the thirst for knowledge. These things are so important, but Wendell had the one thing that makes a person willing to pull weeds and till the ground.

Wendell had a strong belief. Wendell believed that each seed he planted would grow into a miracle. To put a seed into the soil and to expect the right amount of sun, the perfect supply of rain, and the lack of pests requires faith—lots of faith. Wendell had this faith. He needed to feel the soil, to enjoy its smell.

There is a connection between a human and the earth. We have a need to dig, to sow, to weed (well, maybe we don’t have a real need to weed) and to reap. Wendell could grow anything and grow it well enough to win prize ribbons at the fair.

Wendell kept no gardening secrets, he relished sharing any tricks or tips he might have about gardening. He was president of the local garden club and volunteered for all kinds of projects that had a horticultural bent.

He raised zucchini. I know, I know--everyone can raise zucchini, but there was something different, something better about Wendell’s zucchini. However, it was still zucchini and a man can only use so much zucchini. Each year, at the time the zucchini began to ripen, friends and neighbors began to avoid Wendell.

That Blooming Wendell became another person at that season. He became a man bearing zucchini. Wendell became driven, with just one thing on his mind. That thing was to get rid of all of the zucchini he had. The problem was that there was no end to the amount of zucchini that Wendell possessed. We all took to locking our vehicles at night; otherwise Wendell would sneak a box of his precious zucchini into the backseats of our cars.

More than once, I found the squash hiding in the box of my pickup. Everyone said that Wendell had the greenest thumb they’d ever seen and that he could grow anything.

That was not quite true. Wendell could never get his Christmas cactus to bloom. He tried everything, no matter how weird it sounded. He had a beautiful Christmas cactus. It was originally his grandmother’s on his father’s side. Wendell treated that plant like it was royalty, but it refused to reward him with any blooms. He would not give up and told everyone that someday the plant would bloom.

One day, I received a phone call. Wendell had been diagnosed with a cancer of the worst kind--inoperable and terminal. He continued to garden as long as his strength would allow. The disease quickly sapped his energy and Wendell took to bed.

His family gathered at his house, waiting for the moment that most of them had believed would never happen. One morning, a granddaughter was helping clean Wendell’s house when she noticed that Wendell’s Christmas cactus was blooming. It wasn’t just blooming, it was blooming gloriously. She was amazed and joyful to see her grandfather’s plant blooming. A plant that had become a family joke because of its refusal to flower. A plant that her grandfather had waited a lifetime to see bloom.

She ran to inform her grandfather. She found him dead in his bed. "He looked so at peace," she related later. Did Wendell see the blooming Christmas cactus? I don’t know, but I am sure that he is today surrounded by Christmas cacti, blooming in all their glory 24 hours a day, every day. I know this because Wendell believed.