From My Garden to Your Doorstep
“The word humility derives from the Latin word humilitas, which means ‘of the earth.’ To be humble is to be grounded in knowing who you are. It implies the responsibility to become what you were meant to become - to grow, to reach, to fully bloom as high and strong and grand as you were created to.” - Glennon Doyle, Untamed
I am holding a summer arrangement full of fragrant garden roses, dahlias, cosmos, statice, eucalyptus, zinnias, salvia, forget-me-nots, strawflowers, and celosia, all from my garden.
When I chose the name for my tiny, home-based floral business, I didn’t want to use the word humble at first. The act of claiming humility shows that you actually aren’t, right? But then I realized it fits perfectly—it’s a descriptive statement of my work and a constant reminder of my values and my purpose. My garden is my own satisfying place of hard work, quiet, and beauty. By listening to the inner voice that urges me to share flowers from my garden, I am grounded in knowing who I am (and what I am meant to become).
I’m a creative florist who grows her own flowers. I’m a mother of four, an entrepreneur and aspiring philanthropist who believes in the power of beauty to bring joy, hope, dignity, and connection. My city lot overflows with seasonal beauty so that others can extend this gift to loved ones. I grow flowers in my garden so I can use delicate, fragrant, and diverse ingredients in my arrangements and keep the process of growing, designing, and delivering local — and my products as earth-friendly, long-lasting, and high-quality as possible.
I love working alongside my partner and our four children. They all do their part cutting, smelling, planting, building, and loving the garden and its bounty.
When I eventually quit my social work job after having our third child and started Humble Bouquet, I was exhausted. Grounding myself in a simpler life, I now find that abundance is born from simplicity. While my life is still quite full, I’ve traded frantic anxiety for seasonal rhythms of busyness and rest alongside my family, who are very much a part of the whole process: my preschooler digs in the garden dirt while I weed, my school-age child helps me cut flowers for bouquets, my spouse delivers orders with the kids loaded in the van so I can have a few minutes of peace.
The daily and seasonal practice of making my garden grow and thrive challenges me and speaks to me in metaphors, offering wisdom in every task. My hands working the dirt keep me grounded in the present, where I’m able to notice and appreciate what is beautiful in the garden right now. Instead of longing for dahlias in February, my creativity is inspired by the flow of each season because I only use the blooms available to me at that moment.
Sharing the joy and beauty of fragrant, vibrant, seasonal flowers is my absolute pleasure.
There’s a reason we give flowers to those we care about; they communicate love like no other tangible gift. Their fleeting beauty serves to bring joy. My flowers were carefully sown, tended, harvested, and arranged all to realize one of my life’s greatest pleasures: leaving a bouquet on a doorstep, and looking back when I hear that gasp of surprise to see gratitude on your loved one’s face.
Subscribe below to my monthly newsletter for access to new product updates and special offers.
Photos: Kaylin Pinkett Photography