Presently, Mrs. McCarthey stepped onto her patio, carrying a tray with iced tea, glasses, lemon and sugar and a pen and paper. Stella rushed to her aid, but the older woman brush her off. “Honey,” Mrs. McCarthey said, “If I can roll a wheelbarrow full of rocks around all day, I surely can manage a piddly little tray of tea.” The old woman laughed.

For the rest of the afternoon, they discussed what Stella would like to do with her yard and Mrs. McCarthey explained how. At first, Stella was worried about financing the project. The list of things she needed was long and getting longer.

“Not to worry, dear, you really just have to get the tools and some of the fertilizers and a few plants to customize your yard. As you can see, I have plenty of plants I can gladly share with you, if you like. Just tell me which ones you like and I can dig them up for you.” Stella didn’t know what to say. She was practically a stranger and here this wonderful woman was offering to share her plants.

Afternoon turned to evening as Mrs. McCarthey helped Stella to choose plants from her garden and together, they plotted, planned and mapped out Stella’s yard.

The next week, after Stella finished shopping for all the items on her gardening list, Mrs. McCarthey came over, bearing a huge basket full of plants ready to go into the ground. She also carried a large shopping bag.

“What’s this?” Stella asked, surprised.

“Oh, just some things I picked up for you,” the older woman smiled mischievously as she watched Stella tear into the bag.

Inside she found a wide brimmed hat with a red and white gingham ribbon around it, gardening gloves, hand soap and lotion. Stella’s heart overflowed with love for this woman.

“Oh honey,” Mrs. McCarthey said, “if I’d have known you would cry, I wouldn’t have gotten it for you. These are just essentials for every gardener.”

Stella explained that she was just so touched by the gift. Mrs. McCarthey replied that Stella was giving her the gift by letting her help with the yard.

Together, they set to work. It was hard, hot and took two weekends to right the wrongs committed to the little yard. When they were done, it looked clean and green. The flowerbeds all held the little plants that Mrs. McCarthey promised would grow to be big, beautiful fixtures in no time. Everything looked crisp and cared for. All that was left was to water, fertilize occasionally and watch them grow.

Grow the gardens did. Stella was amazed at the progress her yard made and chattered on about it to her neighbor. Their friendship was growing more rapidly than the gardens, as the two women often spent time together.

One night, toward the end of the long, beautiful summer, the two of them were sitting on Stella’s patio, drinking coffee after dinner, when Mrs. McCarthey offered Stella a gift. The candlelight on the table flickered as the older woman handed the younger one a basket, overflowing with a flowering plant; a bush, but softer, with huge, purple flowers.

Shocked, Stella sat speechless. “It’s a hydrangea,” Mrs. McCarthey said, watching Stella’s face for reaction. “When I was younger, my best friend and I would exchange plants every year, so we would always have a piece of the other. The hydrangeas were always my favorites. Eventually, our gardens got so full that we couldn’t add any more, so we started trading. I have hydrangeas in every color.”

“That’s beautiful,” Stella said, lamely.

“Maryanne is gone now,” Mrs. McCarthey continued, not hearing, “but I thought that you should have the first friendship plant. This is from the first one she gave me, so now, I give it to you. I thought it would be beautiful in that nice shady bed by your fence. Of course, if you wanted to put it someplace else, it’s yours.”

“I think you’re right. It will be beautiful there. Will you plant it for me?”

“No,” Mrs. McCarthey said, drawing a shaky breath, “no, I think we should plant this one together.”