The lone zinnia had sprouted several weeks ago. The seed had undoubtedly spread from last year’s batch of giant, all-pink flowers, and it volunteered where it wasn’t intended to be, right inside the edge of one of my raised beds.

I let it grow, for I am tender-hearted toward most living things. I will not go so far as to say “all,” for poisonous snakes, black widow and brown recluse spiders, and any kind of tick are the exception. But if I can identify that a snake is not poisonous, say, if it’s a glorious king or rat snake, I’ll gently encourage it to locate itself elsewhere.

But a flowering weed is no snake, so even it usually gets a chance in my little garden, for its blossoms show beauty and potential.

My isolated zinnia grew tall, and a flower appeared, but its wide bloom, which was almost five inches across, gave the wind more resistance. After a storm, the zinnia’s long stem had been blown over, exposing the small white roots that were desperately trying to cling to the loose soil beneath it. 

Since the stem wasn’t broken, I stacked two unused flower pots and propped the plant against them, letting it continue to grow at an angle. The flower has slid off the pots a few times, but I’ve just set it back in its new position, where it has flourished, albeit much differently from the usual way.

I now count at least ten blossoms springing forth from one plant. It thrives despite the hardship it has encountered in its short life, and all because I cared enough to give it a little extra attention. It cannot help that it sprouted when and where it did, alone and away from the support of other zinnias, which normally stand tall in a cluster. But its difference is its glory, made all the more beautiful by its unique nature.

In one week, students will be returning to school after summer vacation. Some of these babies will be enrolling in school for the first time, little wide-eyed preschoolers and kindergarteners, with their brand-new nap mats, backpacks, and lunch boxes. 

Others are nearing the end of their school journey. These young men and women will be completing college, scholarship, and job applications. They will be taking senior pictures. By the year’s end, they will dress in caps and gowns and receive their high school diploma.

And I guarantee you that they did not and will not all grow the same. All of them needed some kind of support to make it through, even the ones that you would assume would be fine on their own.

They’ve had classmates and friends to learn how to build relationships. They’ve had their parents and families to give them love and encouragement. They’ve had teachers and coaches to guide their learning.

And some students have needed, and will continue to need, extra assistance to help them grow and be all they can possibly be. It’s not quite as easy as sticking a couple of pots next to them, as it was with my single zinnia. An entire team surrounds these extraordinary young people, whose lives then shine with growth, with gain, and with glory.

Beautiful. Unique. Special.

And how many additional good things will sprout from that life, when given a chance and when properly supported? 

Bloom and grow, I say, and help each other out, especially those who cannot help themselves.

That’s all of us, in case you didn’t know. We all take a turn on the “needs support” list.

I might give you a hand today.

Just have a couple of old flowerpots ready to prop me up tomorrow.