‘From flower to fruit;’ or to put it another way, ‘We fulfill our purpose by letting ourselves shine’

By Natasha Josefowitz, Ph.D.

LA JOLLA, California –A flower bud in the spring has closed petals, but potential. If the bud is placed in water with dappled sunlight, it will open into a lovely flower. But if the water is too cool or too warm, or the sun too hot or a draft too cold, the bud will dry out and fall off.

And so it is with children. If there are loving parents—not too strict, not too lenient—and the school has good teachers and there is good food and good air and a warm bed at night—preferably with a story read at bedtime—the child will grow into a healthy adult.

A summer flower could be large or small, with a sweet scent or a pungent one, with colors all over the rainbow, with bees and birds sipping its nectar, a flower that makes people smile as they stop to look at it, smell it, take a photograph—or it can be a flower that no one notices, lost in the underbrush, maybe even inadvertently trampled by passing feet.

And so it is with people—some grow into adults who make others glad, making the world a better place. Others, however, may contribute little—taking, but not giving back. They risk being trampled and forgotten.

In the autumn, the flower will drop its petals, and a fruit will form. Some will be sweet, some sour, with varying colors—red, yellow, orange, purple, speckled—fruits to be eaten raw or cooked, dried or candied, made into jam or relish. The fruit must be eaten or it will fall to the ground, wither and decay.

And so, in the autumn of our lives, like the plant that has matured bearing fruit, we come at last to our full potential. We are ready to give back what we have received. The sap that has flowed through our stems over the years has now fulfilled its purpose. It is the time to feed others, to mentor young buds to help them flower, to advise, to volunteer, to contribute, to help all those who would benefit from the fruit we have grown over a lifetime. If we don’t fulfill our mission, we will wither away and decay.

In the autumn of our lives, it is the last chance we have to nourish those around us. We had our time in the sun, beautiful, admired, like flowers picked and lovingly placed into vases to give pleasure to all. Now that we are ripe, we are like fruit put into bowls and set on tables to be relished—to nourish all.

We may be wrinkled, a little shorter, with gray hair and halting steps, glasses, and hearing aids; but we are at last free from the expectations of others and also free to pursue who we are meant to be in the coming of the winter of our lives. Let us not discount that winter, with the landscape covered with snow. For under that icy cover, deep in the earth, dormant roots are resting, seeds are waiting to emerge with the first hints of spring.

Some of our seeds will take root right next to us. Some will blow to distant places carried by the wind, carried by the forcefulness of our ideas, our values, and our actions—the result of all our gifts, of all our endeavors.

Let us bear the fruits of our labors proudly and be the standard bearers, the role models, the wise men and women who extend our arms full of ripe fruit to the generations to come.

Let the seeds of integrity and good values that we have planted continue to germinate and grow through the generations so that they will keep our earthly home safe and productive. It is then that we would have finally fulfilled our purpose.

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Copyright © 2014. Natasha Josefowitz.  Preceding published in La Jolla Village News. The author may be contacted via natasha.josefowitz@sdjewishworld.com