|Lilacs for Mother's Day|
Marash Girl had always wanted lilac bushes -- her mother had loved lilacs -- they were the first sign of spring for the house on Lowell Avenue in Newtonville. They grew to the right of the little front porch. All Grandma Jennie had to do was to reach over the porch and cut armfuls of lilacs which she would lovingly carry into the house, filling pitchers with water and lilacs and placing the bouquets throughout the living room and the dining room. The whole house was soon redolent with the scent of lilacs. And there was no guilt in the picking because she knew that the more lilacs you gather, the more grow the next year. If you never pick your lilacs, Grandpa Peter told us, you may end up with a lilac-less bush. So lilacs were guilt free, free for the picking, free for the loving. And now Marash Girl will have her very own lilacs in the front yard, lilacs that will remind her of her mother whenever she sees them in bloom in early spring, whenever she reaches over the porch banister to gather those blooms into her arms, whenever she fills her pitchers with water and lilacs and places the bouquets throughout her living room and dining room, whenever her house is redolent with the scent of lilacs.