A guest once arrived at my home for a holiday party bearing a square shaped decorative box filled with a spongy greenish moss from which a woody, green stalk grew. From atop the stalk a delicate white bloom splashed with fuchsia at its center was seemingly staring at me with its fragile petals, the daunting task of its care looming. I thoroughly read the small instruction tag, placed it by a window and gave it minimal water for several weeks as it slowly wilted away and died. Like so many before me, I had failed the task of keeping the beautiful and exotic plant from withering away. As a gardener I felt undeserving of even the few blissful days of the orchid’s bloom.