Have you noticed that there are people in this world who simply do not care for plants?  They may cut down every single tree in their yard, leaving a barren, stumpy moonscape.  Or they’re convinced they do not have a knack for growing green things.  They may feel that plants are just an inconvenient maintenance burden that does not fit into their busy lives.  Or, in the case of the tree-fellers, as a potential limb-dropping hazard to be guarded against. 

Whatever their reasons, don’t we feel bad for these plant-deprived souls?  They’re the ones who  are missing out. Maybe they just need a little nudge to change hearts and minds.  Worth a try, right?

I tried this on a very small scale at our local hospital.  Like many medical establishments, the facility is a pretty stark and sterile space.  The reception desk, tucked under a dark staircase in a busy corridor, would benefit from a cheerful pop of green, I thought. 

So back in April, I brought in a cute little dracaena from Trader Joe’s.  The greeters at the desk seemed excited to receive it and placed it right up front in a prime spot. 

Recently I returned to see that the dracaena had been banished to a dim rear corner of the reception space.  It looked forlorn and woebegone, exuding defeat.  There was a small watering can nearby, looking for all the world like “why am I here?”

After the desk was closed, I snuck some water into the poor plant.  A rescue mission of health care, you might say.  After a few days I checked to see if it was recovering, but it had not perked up.  Neither had it turned brown, though. 

Next time I came in, the droopy dracaena was gone.  Chucked out when it failed to prosper?  

At least it had lasted a good six months.  It was a start. 

What to do next?  Should I throw in the towel, or try again?

The other day, I was walking out of the hospital carrying a small potted anthurium that had been brightening my dad’s hospital room.  The greeter at the desk looked up all of a sudden. 

“Nice plant!” she said.

Aha, I thought—plant-curious!  Perhaps she could use a little nudge?

“Would you like to have it?” 

“Are you sure?”  I told her what it was, and she immediately looked it up on her phone. 

“Ooh, a tropical houseplant—it can go on my sunny windowsill!”

Well, so much for adorning the welcome desk, I thought.  But no matter.  Her plant enthusiasm should be encouraged. 

“Enjoy your plant!”  Leaving the anthurium with its happy new owner felt right.  In its new home it would be appreciated and bring joy. 

Plant care and health care not so different, after all.  First, we pay attention to our patients/plants and find out what they need.  And then we care.  Caring about them, as we care for  them.  From these basic beginnings, could the care even turn into a cure?  People and plants alike, starting to heal and flourish together?

The more we exercise the care muscle, the more positive change can happen, whether on one small windowsill or out in the wider world.   Sure, random acts of plant sharing won’t be solving all our intractable problems in these crazy times.  But even that small gesture of “planting it forward” can make a difference.

At top: A ubiquitous office plant, pothos can also brighten a dreary space.