Violets

Mary Ann

When I was young, we visited my grandparents every weekend.  Upon entering the house, the aroma of baking bread tickled your nose, and the cacophonies of my grandfather’s clock collection ticked and chimed away to greet us. 

When you walked into the dining room, there were three large window that faced the outdoors.  Bright, filtered light flooded the room.  On each of the windows, there were several glass shelves (a forerunner of today’s floating shelves) filled with African violets.  Varying hues of pink, purple, white, and blue were scattered among the shelves.  There were about 30 little pots.  It was magical to me.  Violets always remind me of my grandmother.  

My grandparents lived in a small town away from nurseries, so her violet collection was probably generated through pass-along stems from neighbors and friends.  I am sure she shared her violets with them as well.

I have violets in my kitchens that live in front of a wall of windows with bright, indirect light -a perfect place for violets to grow!  There are three violets, two purple and one pink, that are nestled in a grapevine basket.  I have named the violets after my great-grandmothers, Millie ad Maggie, and my grandmother, Grace.  They make me happy, and I will often have a little chat with them.

In the language of flowers, violets symbolize faith, mystical awareness, inspiration, spiritual passion, profuseness, and sovereignty.  Purple violets represent love, and white violets represent innocence.   

Originally, violets came from the jungles of Tanzania and southeastern Kenya.  Violets are easy to grow – good light, watering once a week keeping the soil moist, and fertilizer when they stop blooming.  I use the same fertilizer as my grandmother – Schultz’s African Violet.  Violets can live as long as 50 years so you can have endless blooms for years to come. 

When my grandmother passed, I was living far away from the family, so I didn’t get back for the funeral. The following summer when I did come home, I took a violet to put on her grave.  It was a nice moment of closure.  My grandmother is with me always, and my violets remind me of her daily.  However, I wish I could once again smell her baking bread.