Mr. Biggers

We used to have a neighbor... Tiny old man. Always wore khaki shirts and pants...and this back in style fishing hat. Dark rimmed glasses. And dirty fingernails.

He was a gardener. He would spend the majority of the cooler hours of morning and evening on his hands and knees tending to the day lilies his Mama bred and planted in the yard. Hours and hours of tending. He was so proud of his ladies.

He and Mrs. Biggers never had children...so there was no one to pass these lovelies (his babies) to. He offered several times for us to come over and help ourselves to some. Which we never did.

They moved away a couple years ago. He was sick. So sick that when I stopped by to say goodbye, he did not recognize me.

The house he grew up and old in turned into a renovated rental.

They know nothing of the lilies. Landscaping crews come once every two weeks and mow the yard flat.

But I have noticed a few survivors peeking their faces out of the overgrown lot just behind the yard. They are lovely. They make me think of Mr. Biggers. And I wonder if he is still on this earth? Or is he with Him, the Lily Maker, in a place possibly filled with lilies? Did he know Him?

Mr. Biggers toiled and toiled. And now...there is almost nothing to show for it.

No one even knows about his passion for those flowers.



Except me.



Maybe I should get me a shovel...and maybe by moonlight...go out and get me some of those lilies...

To remember... to remember him...and to ponder the words,

"Meaningless! Meaningless!...Everything is meaningless..." Ecc. 1:2

And to make sure...that the things we choose to toil over...are things that matter...things that last.