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It was worth the wait. The tiny daylily I planted at the end of last summer has bloomed. Not long after I saw it, I received a call from my daughter Monique.

“I passed in front of my old house, and the lilies are blooming. Would it be weird to stop and ask if I can take a piece for my new house?”

Our lilies’ roots trace back to my Aunt Judy. Years ago, I admired some in her yard, and she was eager to share. She pointed out the new young plants forming on the stalks laden with buds yet to bloom.

“When these new plants are bigger, we’ll just snap off the stalks and plant them in your yard,” she said.

I later pushed the miniature plants into the dark soil of my own bare garden. The winter months provided little hope of springtime lilies, but upon the advice of Aunt Judy, I didn’t touch them. I left the scraggly looking plants in place, unaware of what was happening beneath the cold surface. As the weather warmed, the plants grew and the first of many yellow blooms dotted my landscape.