Several years ago, we had a cucumber plant growing in my backyard.
As I observed how it grew from seedling to blooms, it taught me so much.
It reached out — and grew these tiny, delicate, determined little curls. Tendrils. They wrapped around whatever they could find, held on tight, and then — only then — did the plant burst into full, glorious bloom.
The cucumber plant doesn’t grow despite needing support.
It grows because of it.
I’ve been thinking about our kinderlach. Our students. Our children.
So many of them are quietly reaching out — not always with words, but with behavior.
With their shutdown.
With acting out.
By asking the same question five times.
With crying over something that seems small.
They’re growing their curls.
They’re looking for something to hold onto.
And here’s what the cucumber knows that we sometimes forget:
Needing support is not a weakness. It’s how bloom happens.
The plant wasn’t broken because it needed something to grip. It was designed that way. Brilliantly, beautifully, purposefully designed. So are our children.
A hand to hold before a lesson to learn.
The nachas we feel when we watch a child finally bloom — it doesn’t come from pushing harder.
It comes from holding steady while they grow. The cucumber taught me that.
Look at your children today — the ones who are reaching, curling, and climbing. Be their tendril.
Bezras Hashem, they’ll bloom. You’ll see.
Warmest wishes to a most blossoming Chag HaShavuos!
Rachel Gluck