I absolutely love Crepe myrtles bushes. We have several in our yard. My favorite is the deep red variety. This is some information I found out about this flowering bush.
Crepe myrtles revel in the full summer sun and heat, so find a place that meets these requirements and you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams. They grow best in any reasonably good soil. They are adapted to poor soil and don’t need much fertilizer. Crepe myrtles are tough plants–don’t kill them with kindness! They reach full bloom in the peak of summer. The hotter it gets, the more they bloom.
My grandmother’s name was Myrtle and she was just like the crepe myrtle, she bloomed when times were hard. She managed to raise four daughters and my dad (which was a big challenge) during the depression. She always had a garden full of vegetables, a well stocked pantry and freezer. She always knew what each grandchild loved and this food item would always be on the table of any family gathering. My favorite was macaroni and cheese and I don’t remember a thanksgiving or Christmas without a big bowl on the table. There were always at least three different desserts and all were homemade and very delicious. She would much rather garden than clean house. She always wore a dress with an apron, and a bonnet. She would wear big boots to go and feed the chickens and tend to the cows. The best memory I had of her was she always said a blessing before she ate. Since my parents weren’t Christians, this didn’t happen at our house. I loved to watch her fold her weathered hands and bow her wrinkled and very tan face and she would talk to God like she talked to me, clearly and with familiarity. For years her prayers were the only I had ever heard. They made a real impact on my heart! She was my favorite pen pal. Although she lived 90 miles away, I didn’t get to see her that often, so she wrote me lots of letters. I’m sure my correspondence as a girl was not that interesting, but she saved each letter and when she died I saw the stack of each letter I sent her, saved in a special place. I want to be like her and like the crepe myrtle. I want to bloom in the times when many other trees and plants have given up to the heat and lack of rain. She died when I was eighteen. I became a Christian three years later. I have a feeling she prayed me into the kingdom, with those weathered callused hands. I would love to take her hand and pray with her. Every time I see a crepe myrtle bush blooming, I stop and think of her and the heritage she left me. Thank you Lord for my grandmother and the witness she was to me and the world.