After my mother passed away, a colleague sent me a peace lily as a condolence gift. Today, more than a year later, I own an exquisite collection of house plants. To quote novelist Alice Sebold, the garden is a place where I find myself when I need to lose myself. My mind is still when I take care of my plants. Probing the soil, watering, and propagating them puts me into a zone of transcendence.
Last spring, I discovered a dazzling plant with heart-shaped pink, green and white leaves. I couldn’t resist the allure of these caladiums, and I splurged by buying four—two for myself and two for my friend Sabrina. These were plants that deserved to be on display, so both Sabrina and I broadcast their splendor by putting them on the front walk outside our homes.
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