GET GROWING

A CHAMPA BLOOMS IN TORONTO! IN THE DEAD OF WINTER!

By LADYBUG

One of my favourite books as a young girl was A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

I learnt as an adult that the book by Betty Smith, the story of a family struggling to make ends meet in the early 1900s, touched a chord in many hearts. It inspired hope in times of war and adversity.

At the end of the book, the protagonist Francie sees the tree that has grown in the inhospitable environment in the building’s yard as a metaphor for her family’s ability to overcome difficulties, to thrive against the odds.

The name of the book popped up in my mind when a champa branch I had potted sprouted leaves.

“A champa grows in Toronto!” I wrote to my brother excitedly, sharing the image.

My son had picked up the branch – more of a stick, really, as it was bare and just about eight-inches long – at the home show as a gift for me. “They said it is what they use in Hawaiian leis and I thought you’d like one,” he said, pointing to my collection of tropical plants.

It came with an instruction booklet. Plant it in potting mix, water deeply and then water only once every two weeks, letting it dry out between watering. Leaves should form in three to four months and the plant will bloom in about three to four years.

I potted, watered, and watched. The branch acted like it had also read the instructions, doing what it was supposed to on cue. The leaves formed in a few months and I moved the plant to a bigger pot. It sat in the sun on the deck each summer, overwintering near a sunny window, as the plant grew bigger. This winter, it bloomed!

For the uninitiated, champa (frangipani or plumeria), is a tropical plant native to the Indian subcontinent or the Caribbean, with extremely fragrant creamy white, yellow or orange-pink blooms. But a champa in Toronto? In winter?

Scented hair oils used to be very popular in India once upon a time. The cloying smell used to bother me, and I continue to avoid strongly-scented agarbattis. But I celebrate the fragrance of the champa that greets me each morning as I enter my kitchen in the dead of winter.

For what are the odds of a champa growing in our climes?