When I was a child, few books captured my imagination the way Miss Rumphius by Barbara Cooney did. It is a gentle story, but one that carries a powerful idea: that each of us should do something to make the world more beautiful. I didn’t fully understand it then, but I felt it. Somewhere along the way, I made that goal my own. That’s why, when I was looking for a meaningful baby shower gift, this book immediately came to mind. I wanted to give something more than a story; I wanted to pass along an idea that might take root over time.
As a child, I was especially enchanted by the way Miss Rumphius scattered lupine seeds and transformed the landscape into a sea of color. It felt magical and simple. She had a goal, and she made it happen in a way that seemed almost effortless. But years later, when I tried to grow lupines in my own yard here in Pittsburgh, PA, I discovered that it is not nearly as easy as the story makes it seem. Lupines can be surprisingly particular. They prefer cool summers, well-drained soil, and slightly acidic conditions, and they do not always thrive in our region’s heavier soils and humid climate. Gardeners often need to amend the soil and carefully choose planting locations, and even then, success is not guaranteed (Penn State Extension). I learned to scarify seeds, to experiment with placement, and to be patient. Some of my attempts failed entirely, while others struggled along. Only a few truly flourished, but those few felt like a small triumph.
Standing in my yard, looking at those blooms, I began to understand something deeper about the story. Miss Rumphius makes the act of making the world more beautiful look simple, but that simplicity is part of its purpose. Stories often leave out the long stretches of effort, the failures, and the slow progress, not to be deceptive but to highlight what matters most. They give us a vision of what is possible. The reality, though, is that meaningful work rarely happens all at once. It unfolds gradually, through persistence and small, repeated efforts. It requires patience, and often it involves trying again when nothing seems to be growing.
That realization has made me love the book even more as an adult. What once felt like a fairytale ending now feels like a lifelong practice. The three goals Miss Rumphius sets; to travel, to find a place to belong, and to make the world more beautiful—are not things that happen quickly or easily. They are directions to follow, not boxes to check. They are lived out over time, shaped by choices, experiences, and steady commitment.
When I was young, I made a promise to myself after reading this book. I wanted to see places different from home, to meet new people, and to learn from them. I wanted to contribute something good to the world, even in small ways. And someday, I hoped to enjoy a peaceful season of life, reflecting on a life that felt meaningful. I didn’t know then what that would look like, and I’m still discovering it now. But each spring, when the lupines bloom in my yard (after all the effort it took to help them grow) I am reminded of that promise and the path I am still walking.
That is why I chose Miss Rumphius as a baby shower gift. I don’t expect a child to understand its message right away. But I hope that one day, when they are ready, the story will speak to them the way it once spoke to me. Perhaps it will plant a small seed—a sense of wonder, a desire to make a difference, a belief that their life can be meaningful. And maybe, years from now, they will find their own way of planting lupines, discovering for themselves that while making the world more beautiful may not be easy, it is always worth the effort.
I don’t have children of my own. As I read the book now, I remember that Aunt Alice didn’t either. She was a “cool aunt” or even the “favorite aunt” like me… or so I tell the tiny humans who call me Aunt Karie. There was a time that I worried about how I would leave a legacy with the younger generation without having my own children. Now that seems like a silly thing to worry about. I know that I have had made meaningful memories with my students, youth group, and other people who have come in and out of my life. I hope they remember me as fondly as I remember them.
I’ve gifted this book on multiple occasions and wanted to have a blog post that explored why it is important to me.
I wanted to leave an inscription in the book for the parents and their child that would be meaningful to them and to whomever they passed this book along to next.
Dear One,
This was one of my favorite books when I was a child, and it has stayed with me ever since. It carries a simple, beautiful idea that each of us can help make the world a better place.
As you grow, your parents will walk alongside you, helping you learn and guiding you along the way. I hope you stay curious, explore new places, meet all kinds of people, and over time, find your own ways to make a difference.
Like the lupines in this story, some of the most meaningful things take time. Keep going, it is always worth it.
I hope your life is full of beauty in what you find and what you create.
With so much love,
Karie
The pictures above are of my garden in the spring of 2022. It’s a little messy but I love the riot of color with the roses and lupins growing close together.
This is where I found the “formal” information about growing Lupines for this article: Pennsylvania State University Extension. Growing perennial flowers in Pennsylvania. At the time I planted them, I had seeds from the plants my mom grew in her yard (she did the first round of trial and error). When it came time to cut and soak the seeds we did some google searching and she tried to remember how she got hers to work. Each year, I bend the seed heads down to face the dirt (like mom does) so they release seeds into the ground, and each year the lupines manage to grow again. It feels miraculous. And worth the effort. If you’ve read this far, you know a thing or two about effort… so I hope you also try to grow lupines or do the thing you’re thinking about doing but afraid to start. I believe you can do it. With so much love, Karie.
Period Pastor Pad 