The Parable of the Ginger Root

"They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green." – Psalm 92:14

Old and wrinkled, ignored, unseen,

Left to die - a "has-been,"

Deemed no longer fit to cook,

Discarded with a passing look.

But wait - two little buds gaze at me.

Hopeful eyes, a silent plea.

Soaked with care, laid in the soil,

Resting deep, no need for toil.

In deep darkness, employing hidden hurt,

The mystery stirs beneath the dirt.

Two weeks pass - and life breaks through!

Three green shoots, born bright and new.

The Creator knew just what to do.

Though others gave up, He never withdrew.

You may feel old, and past your prime -

But given love and a little time,

You too can flourish, bloom once more,

In a new season, different than before.

There is always hope,  while breath remains,

Rooted in the Father's love, there are no chains

Life does not end - it transforms,

It bends, it grows, it weathers storms.

All it needs is tender care,

A little space, a little prayer.

A ginger plant stays true and strong,

Never meant to be a rose all along.

But oh! The life it still can give,

Nourishment and strength to live.

So plant your seeds in hearts nearby,

And help another soul to fly.

To grow, to thrive, to pass it on -

That’s how your legacy lives on.

© Deryn van der Tang 2025

Last month I had to have surgery for a retina detachment. No sooner had the retina in my eye begun to heal, when the macula sprang a hole! Once again, I had emergency surgery to repair it. This sent me right back to square one, where I was a month ago, having to lie or sit face down for three weeks.

This was a real setback - but in some ways it felt that it had to be. Perhaps there were still things I had to learn. With my head down, I closed my eyes and time-traveled to when I was a young child growing up in Rhodesia. Before we had electricity, there was no light at night other than candles and paraffin lamps. In the stifling hot month of October, when we could not sleep, my father took our mattresses out onto the lawn. As we lay down looking at the stars and the moon, my father showed us Orion’s Belt and the Milky Way. The blackness was like a soft, velvety cloak that embraced us. On one occasion, we heard the roar of a lion in the distance and the beating of native drums.  We did not feel afraid, but one with nature; there was nothing to distract us from the beautiful, dark starlit night sky, and it felt good. I felt that same peace now, sitting in the dark, face down.

A week before I sprang a hole in my macula, I had found an old dried-out piece of ginger root in the kitchen. It was ready to go in the bin - no longer edible, or useful to cook with. I noticed three small shiny ‘eyes’ on it. I had nothing to lose if I planted it to see what would happen. I soaked it and planted it. Two weeks after I’d had the surgery, when I checked, three little shoots were peeping through the soil. I realized this was a message from the Creator, that He’s not done with me yet! I may be old, wrinkled, and dried out, but there’s still life, and while there’s life, there’s hope! So it’s a new season of growth, creating a new pathway to a new way of being and doing. This inspired me to write a poem about how we are never done. Our Creator always has a plan; we may not see it with our external eyes. If we allow Him to work in the mystery's darkness of not seeing and knowing. We do not have to be afraid of the dark, but let it embrace us, feeling at one with nature and our Creator. It was in the soil's darkness that the mystery of the little ginger root sprang to life.

I would love to leave you with this message: that the Creator is never done with us as long as we have breath. We are all on this planet for a purpose. I hope you enjoyed this little story today, and that it encourages and inspires you to keep going even if things look dark and bleak.

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