I work at a botanical garden. Every winter we get variations of the same complaint:

Visitor: “I drove all this way, and there’s nothing to see! It’s all snow!”

It got to the point where management would allow us to come up with creative answers since “winter is a thing” wasn’t cutting it.

Us: “Oh, really? The Force Field Heat Dome must be malfunctioning again. Come back in a couple of hours, and it should be nice and tropical again.”

Us: “We usually turn winter off around 9 AM, but we’re running behind today.”

Us: “We’ll have a word with Mother Nature. She’s been impossible lately.”

Us: “The plants filed a union grievance and refused to bloom until April.”

Us: “Sorry, the climate requires administrator privileges that we don’t have.”

One of our newer coworkers, who used to work in a hotel, witnessed a few of these responses all happen in one day and said:

Coworker: “Ah! I wish I could have said things like this to the guest who complained that the wind was keeping him awake… during a hurricane.”

Nice to know it’s not just the gardens that suffer like this!

This story reminded me of my own.

If the weather is good, I go to the Chicago Botanic Gardens at least once a week, usually on a Wednesday after work. It’s open until eight in the summer, and I get there just after five, so I have almost three hours to myself in the beautiful gardens.

One day, I’m debating where to go, and I’m heading through the entryway, when I’m stopped by a middle-aged woman with a walker.

Woman: “Excuse me, can you help me? I’m trying to find the Sensory Gardens.”

Me: “Sure thing! I was just heading in that direction myself.”

Woman: “Oh, no need, just point me in the right direction, I’ll get there. Eventually.”

She waves at the walker and tells me some of her muscular and neurological issues. A little TMI, but having had a stroke at a very young age (and having family with issues much like hers), I feel responsible to help.

Me: “Nonsense. I’ll walk with you.”

At one point, we’re trudging, and she says her hands are going numb, which leads to her arms going numb, which leads to her legs going numb.

Me: “How can I help? What can I do?”

Woman: “Is there a bench nearby? If I rest for a few minutes, I’ll be fine.”

Me: “Certainly! Let me see… There are a few benches a little up that hill. Do you want me to bring one down for you?”

Woman: “Oh, yes.”

Me: “You got it!”

Woman: “No! I was kidding! You don’t have to drag it down here! Please. How DARE you make my life easier!”

Me: “Hey, I try! You okay if I run off to the Train Exhibit for a minute? I just want to take a look. I’ll bring back photos!”

We then spend the next three hours together. She’s in her mid-60s, I’m in my late 30s, but we have so much in common anyway that it’s hard to speak with our laughter.

She does go very slowly, and she apologizes almost every two minutes. I tell her to stop apologizing and to look at those trees! Look at these flowers! Do you want to get a photo over there? How about by this wall?

We end up in the Sensory Garden (eventually), but we’ve made friends, we’ve taken pictures, I’ve shared my life with her, and she has shared her life with me. At the end, we hug, and we promise to go again next week.

That was the last time I saw her at the Gardens – because the Wednesdays we’ve planned have been so blasted bad! We’ve been getting dinner instead. Last night we had ramen, and I introduced her to croquettes!