A symbol of interfaith friendship sprouts on a well-lit kitchen shelf
It was a simple gift of friendship four decades ago between two colleagues at medical school, one Catholic and one Jewish.
The former, who was studying pediatric nursing, gave a plant to the latter, who was going into pediatrics.
A small plant, a kalanchoe, a single twig in a small clay pot in a beaded, wicker basket.
The occasion? A birthday, says Rose, the recipient, who recently retired from her career of evaluating the health of children for a state agency on the East Coast of the United States. Her friend, Donna, “in her last years, developed a real skill in creating homemade greeting cards,” Rose says – “works of art to me. I much enjoyed receiving them.”
Above all, Rose says, she has treasured the kalanchoe. Which still lives. Healthier than ever. She says she doesn’t have a green thumb. “All I did was water it.”
Shortly after she received the token of mutual respect from Donna, she got married, and moved with her then-young husband into a modest three-story house in a mid-sized East Coast city. Rose placed the pot in a right-hand corner of a narrow shelf of a brightly lit, eastern-facing window of her kitchen, above the dual sinks – one for meat utensils and dishes, one for dairy, as is the custom in the type of kosher-observant household that Rose set up as she settled into a life of religious domesticity – across from a view of her family’s yard of bushes and herbs, and a neighbor’s lawn and towering trees.
The plant has remained on the shelf. Virtually untouched.
No fertilizer or plant food for the kalanchoe. No trimming of the multiple sprouts that soon joined the original, lone twig. No pruning.
“I didn’t do anything” to foster the plant’s growth, Rose says.
But grow it did, as Rose’s family did, three children as healthy as the kalanchoe, whose lengthening, twisting tendrils steadily shot out of its pot, dominating the dozen or so other potted plants next to it on the kitchen shelf.
Each year, the kalanchoe asserts its presence in more-vibrant, more-visible green terms, not to be overlooked or ignored.
Rose’s kalanchoe, at first only short stalks, has served in subsequent decades as a silent witness to her emerging dedication to the requirements of her faith – she guided family members and Shabbat guests at the sink in the ritual washing of hands (pouring from the ceramic cup designed with a pair of handles on the side) before eating meals where bread, the highest level of nourishment in Judaism, was served, blessed and eaten. Nearby, a dish that contains quarters and other assorted coins to be donated to charity. And a small, filigree figure of a Yemenite man blowing a shofar. And an artistic ceramic Jewish star, on which some of the plant’s stiff, curving shoots rest.
The plant’s name comes from the Chinese word kalan chau, which means an object that falls and grows, referring to the plantlets that drop from the stems of many of its species.
A genus of about 125 species of tropical, succulent plants in the Crassulaceae family, the kalanchoe is native to Africa’s island nation of Madagascar, but the kalanchoe blossfeldiana has spread its roots around the world. In Chinese culture, it is known as the “longevity flower,” frequently gifted during the Lunar New Year as an omen of wealth and abundance. In the Caribbean and Africa, herbal healers call kalanchoes “life plants” or “miracle leaves.”
In Feng Shui, the kalanchoe is believed to promote emotional harmony and balance
The kalanchoe is “a beginner-friendly plant,” according to the elledecor.com horticultural website – they “require almost noting from you in return … align[ing] perfectly with busy schedules and forgetful waterers.”
Perfect for a physician with many personal and professional obligations. And, appropriately, it has a medicinal purpose; some of its species, with immunosuppressive effects, are used to treat such ailments as infections, rheumatism, inflammations and hypertension.
The kalanchoe is a survivor, a thriver, noted for its ability to sprout new roots from fallen leaves – nothing dies or goes to waste. It produces lost-lasting blooms, and is a low-maintenance facet of nature. No matter the circumstances or environment, it remains. And grows.
In the world of spirituality, it has come to represent resilience and renewal – a fitting symbol for the Jewish people, among whom Rose has raised her children.
Members of different faiths, Rose and Donna respected each other’s beliefs. “We didn’t speak often of our religions,” Rose says, “but both of us were passionate to our respective callings. Both of us were, under the surface, driven religiously to try to help the poor, underprivileged children we served.”
The kalanchoe was a symbol of the two women’s motivation. “We worked in the inner-city for long days,” Rose says, “and I think that somehow the plant represented the beauty of the real, outside world, which we experienced in limited amounts.”
The plant’s flowers, typically sprouting during the darkest days of winter, have also become a symbol of hope. Like the menorahs whose candles are lit near other windows in Rose’s home during the Chanukah holiday, which always occurs when sunlight is in shortest supply.
In Rose’s kitchen, the plant is a reminder of an honored friendship. Donna, a world traveler after her retirement, died in January, 2025, of cancer. “It was a privilege for me to have been at her bedside during part of her final few hours,” Rose says.
Donna’s kalanchoe survives her. As a living reminder in Rose’s kitchen.
A kalanchoe features thick, fleshy, emerald-green, spoon-shaped leaves, scalloped at the edges, about an inch long; in recent years, Rose’s has begun to sprout tiny multi-colored buds, about the size of a small pea, which open and enlarge into flame-shaped, four-pedaled delicate flowers that are yellow on the outside and primarily pink inside.
Rose sees the kalanchoe whenever she works at the sink. “I think of her when I look at this lovely plant, and I miss her,” Rose says.
Which is fitting.
A kalanchoe, according to indiespiritualist.com, symbolizes “everlasting love.”