Kathy Ann's plants

 Kathy Ann stood behind the counter of her small flower shop, tapping her fingers against the register. The shop smelled of fresh roses and damp soil, but all she could focus on was the empty doorway. Another slow day. Another day where she felt like she wasn’t blooming fast enough.


She had dreamed of this shop since she was a child, watching her grandmother tend to her garden with gentle hands and endless patience. But patience wasn’t Kathy Ann’s strength. She wanted things to happen now with customers flooding in, orders piling up, success blooming overnight. Instead, she was met with quiet afternoons, wilting hope, and a creeping sense of business failure.


One evening, as she watered the potted lilies by the window, her grandmother stopped by. She watched Kathy Ann sigh, frustration evident in the way she misted the leaves too quickly, spilling water onto the counter.

“Why you always rushing,” her grandmother said softly. “Flowers don’t bloom faster just because you want them to.”

Kathy Ann frowned. “But I’ve done everything right. I picked the perfect spot, got the best suppliers, worked hard. So why isn’t it growing like I thought it would?”


Her grandmother chuckled, walking over to a small jasmine plant on the shelf. “Do you know why this hasn’t bloomed yet?”

Kathy Ann glanced at it. “Because it’s not ready?”

“Exactly.” Her grandmother ran a hand over the plant’s dark green leaves. “You’re so focused on what hasn’t happened yet that you’re forgetting to nurture what’s in front of you. A flower shop isn’t just about selling flowers. It’s about helping people find beauty, about sharing something that grows at its own pace.”


Kathy Ann looked around at her shop, really seeing it for the first time in weeks. The plants were thriving, the air was rich with the scent of blossoms, and though business was slow, it wasn’t empty. A few loyal customers always returned, and every now and then, someone new would step in, drawn by the warmth of the space she had created.


That night, she sat with her grandmother in the garden, listening to stories of how the best things in life took time. And for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t angry at her progress.


The next morning, instead of pacing behind the counter, Kathy Ann spent extra time arranging a bouquet with care, knowing that growth wasn’t about rushing. It was about trusting the season she was in.


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