While mowing the lawn I caught a glimpse of something pinkish-red in our Golden Delicious apple tree. Upon closer examination I discovered that both the pink and yellow rose bushes are using the tree—trellis fashion—to climb its strong trunk and limbs. Smiling, I hummed the ever-popular song Lean on Me while I finished moving the yard.
Lean on me, when you’re not strong
And I’ll be your friend
I’ll help you carry on
For it won’t be long
‘Til I’m gonna need
Somebody to lean on
We’ve all had occasion when we needed to lean on someone else for support—be it body, mind, or spirit. Likewise, we’ve made ourselves available in return. Much like removing water wings from a new swimmer, or training wheels from a new bicyclist, the tricky part is knowing when to remove ourselves from the equation so the person returns to independence.
When was the last time you let someone lean on you?
A few weeks ago Len surprised me with a dozen garnet-red roses for my birthday. Their velvet petals—tight like cabbage leaves—were held close to their vest, trying to conceal their exotic, spicy scent, but it escaped anyway.
Several days later I was sitting in our living room waiting for the sun to wake its sleepy head. Before I knew it, its golden fingers had reached through the window and painted the now-unfurled, fragrant bouquet.