I just finished reading a wonderful essay by Howard Zucker in today's Sunday Boston Globe. However before sharing this with you -- I should apologize to my Blog for being absent for so long..........
Life lessons in a clay pot
IT WAS HARDLY a responsibility I initially sought to shoulder. In 2002, I was given a plant with a historic genealogy - a gift for a year well served. As I glanced down at eight leaves of Swedish ivy in the smallest of clay pots, I almost sensed it was asking for a few simple things - sunlight, water, and love. I thought, this cannot be so difficult, green thumb or not; ivies are known for their resilience. And so began a journey demonstrating that common sense and community effort can overcome carelessness and misfortune.As with all living things, this ivy has a heritage. A gift to President Kennedy, it resides above the fireplace in the Oval Office. If it could speak, oh the stories it could tell. My clipping was in appreciation of serving as a White House Fellow in the year after Sept. 11, 2001.
At first the task seemed effortless, but troubles soon took hold, as if to parallel the country's
turmoil. Taking my eyes off the duties assigned caused the leaves to wilt. Foolish me. Never again would I turn caution to the wind, and the ivy to direct sunlight. A colleague suggested I get another clipping. Yet that was too emblematic of a throwaway society - the antithesis of my beliefs. I was going to save this ivy. First, it needed strength. So in keeping with Jewish tradition, I named it in memory of my grandmother. It became "Ivy Rose."
Withering branches required the stem to be removed from the soil and placed in a cup of water. Then one night, the remaining four leaves languished. "I'm a doctor, surely I can get a plant onto life support," I quipped. A midnight consult with a horticulturist left a dangerous option - cut the dying leaves off, leaving a stem and two tiny sprouts. The decision was mine and I acted. It was a sleepless night and days before any improvements.
As Ivy Rose struggled through a landscape of seasons, so too did our nation, from a Shuttle accident to Katrina, economic downturns to lingering wars. Occasionally I saw its relative glancing upon the president's desk, an eyewitness to history. With time, Ivy Rose would grow, though near-death experiences were all too frequent.
Finally, after three tumultuous years, Ivy Rose was thriving! I chose to divide her into five clippings. Yet a freak accident left me with just two stems. Time to start over, again.
Year's end brought a decision with everlasting ramifications for Ivy Rose. I accepted a UN post and was moving to Switzerland. Diplomatic privileges might not shield me from importing foreign plants. Adhering to rules is as indigenous to the Swiss as is their chocolate. Ivy Rose would stay behind. I placed her into my mother's hands, confident that each would receive unconditional love.
Despite excursions to far reaches of the globe, I never ceased to wonder about Ivy Rose. Conversations invariably turned to the subject; "she's doing well, I moved her to the dining room," and "should I remove the branch that looks limp?"
After years overseas, I returned home. I was greeted by six large pots, thousands of leaves. It was Ivy Rose! In the words of my young nephew, "my uncle gave my grandma five leaves and she turned it into a forest." Maybe there are more forests to grow.
In the seamless transition to a new administration, the Oval Office gets vacated. And though most things get changed, there remains an ivy plant that will bear witness to moments in the great American story yet to be written. And so, too, rests in my home a descendent of White House foliage, knowing now that just a little wisdom, trust, and passion can give ideas their underpinnings, concepts their branches, and a free people new beginnings founded in strong roots that are everlasting.
Howard A. Zucker, who served as US deputy assistant secretary of health and as assistant director-general of the World Health Organization, is a fellow at the Institute of Politics at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government. 
