Garden owner on her balcony, talking about sources of health, comfort, and the skill of living beautifully

It was snowing, wind blowing through the empty balconies, beating against the panes of glassed-in ones. Watching this, I thought about the long months that would pass before it would get warm again and the flowers would appear. I looked up to try to glimpse the sun hidden above the heavy clouds. Then something caught my eye and made me freeze. One of the second-story balconies seemed to have caught and kept the past summer. It was buried in rich blossoming greenery, the way it is early in the season, away from the city’s hustle and bustle. I heard a baby’s laughter and then a young woman appeared on the balcony, carrying a baby. We made our acquaintance.

The young woman’s name was Olena Stanko and the baby was her two-year-old daughter Tetiana. Last year the family had moved into their new apartment and set about making a comfortable nest. The place had quickly filled with potted flowers (brought from her mother’s apartment under repair). When it was time to return the flowers Olena had realized she could not part with them; without them the apartment would be so empty and uncomfortable. She had by then grown her own flowers and her husband had even had to install additional shelves. Their small balcony was now a miniature blossoming alcove and their daughter loved to play there, reaching up or down to smell every flower, caressing every leaf, now and then whispering something to it. Olena is convinced that one must talk to plants to make them grow faster and feel at home. “I was recently presented with a rubber plant,” says Olena. “It’s very capricious; if it doesn’t like the place or the owner, it will fade. Fortunately, we made friends and the plant has been growing well, I even had to make a larger box for it. Sometime I’m so busy with the baby I forget to water my flowers and every time I feel guilty.”

Olena plans eventually to teach her daughter some geography, using plants as graphic examples. Aloe and geranium will tell her about Africa; rubber plant, lemon, and begonia about Asia; cactus, fuchsia, and spiderwort about America. And she will learn about her native land this year, at their dacha’s kitchen garden, with small islands of flowers scattered among the beds of vegetables and fruit. Her daughter’s grandmother, also Tetiana, is convinced that there are no plants rating the name of weed, as each has its meaning and importance; one must simply know which is what. She has her own philosophy of the plant world. About ten years ago, she got in a car accident and was on the critical list. She was immobile and could judge the passage of time only by watching the clouds through the window. It was June and one day she spotted a small grape leaf on the window side. As it grew in size Tetiana felt better and grew stronger. Ever since the plant has been a symbol of recovery. The woman did not even have to use crutches (she was told she would be crippled for life and able to move only on crutches). She believes that people have become too remote from nature, losing affinity with, and understanding of it. That is why people are becoming weaker, physically as well as spiritually, and easy prey to disease.

“I was always amazed to see the flowers grown by my mother-in-law,” recalls Olena’s mother. “She never had those fancy flower pots. Just the simplest ones and flowers would grow in them like dough on yeast; they were so large and vigorous. There were always roses and tulips right across the threshold. With the coming of winter she would have clusters of dry medicinal herbs hanging all over the kitchen... I made a special green corner in every room of my city apartment. Looking at those plants makes you forget all about your daily worries. Instead, you are permeated with an awareness of lasting values and of your own importance in this world.”

Somehow we seem to have stopped contemplating the fact that man always imbibes strength from his native land, that in his progress man cannot help but rely on his past. Was this why all those genuine aristocrats treasured their family estates? Why all people, in all countries used to cherish the warmth of their parental homes and gardens planted by past generations? Olena, the owner of the balcony garden, says that she became aware of the meaning of those things precisely when she had set about building a family, when she had became an expectant mother. It was then that she experienced a soul-searching. She had suddenly realized that her institute classes and exams were not the main thing. If one could not build a family estate, one could create a small verdant spot in one’s apartment. The young woman is engrossed in translating her idea into life.

Now all her relatives and friends bring not the traditional bouquets but potted plants, and these are the best gifts. Also, she collects old recipes for being young and studies medicinal herbs, using various sources. She says that Ukrainian folk cosmetology is rooted in the harmonious unity between man and nature. “We are always in a hurry, trying to make our life better, buying all kinds of household appliances; we forget that our life is directly dependent on the aesthetic comfort bestowed by living nature. This comfort doesn’t call for heavy spending, making extreme physical efforts or spending a lot of time. One must only want to surround oneself with beauty and learn to live beautifully.”