For as long as I can remember, I have always been passionate about gardening and arranging flowers. I learned beside both of my grandmothers when I was a little girl. One had a knack for gardening, and the other, a flare for design.

My Mimi, as my brother and I called her, would take us foraging for all things small and interesting - be it plants and their seeds, funny looking bugs and butterflies or remnant turtle shells and tadpoles. Anything that led to an adventure and a lesson of the natural world. I remember walking with her around our grandfather’s pond and carefully rummaging through her front porch potted garden complete with river rock borders and broken terracotta pots. She’d keep seeds in old film canisters and the plastic wrapping shed from her Misty Blue Slim 120 cigarettes. Her house was a museum of dusty, cat hair-covered treasures, and every horticultural book you could ever hope to collect. I miss her and that eclectic, old soul of hers. And much to my husband’s dismay, that trait must be genetic, because I now also have shelves of oddities, books, and handfuls of seeds scattered on the kitchen table most of the time. Minus the cat hair. Ryan’s allergic.

Fassie, my father’s mother who could not be bothered with any grandmother-esque title, was and still is a force of beauty, kindness, and strength. Since I was a child, I have always been astonished at how she could take what seemed like a boring, underwhelming room or a tiny, overlooked space in the yard and effortlessly turn it into something beautiful. I trusted no one more than her to help me with my own wedding florals. She smashed it in case you were wondering. Fassie put down roots, made her homes and their yards something to marvel over. Moving was always a thrill to her. The next new canvas and opportunity to be creative awaited and she couldn’t resist making that place a home, even if it was only for a short time. And while she has likely rooted herself for the last time after receiving some saddening health news, her flare for the beautiful and that overwhelming determination to overcome any and all adversity remains constant.  And for that, I am so thankful to be “Faris’s granddaughter”.

What was nurtured as a hobby from a young age by these two beautiful women, and so many other people in my life, has now blossomed into a career. One that gives me more joy and fulfillment than I can express in words.

A lot of people ask how we chose the name of our company. This is a story I love to tell. When Ryan and I first bought our home here in Elloree, we knew from the start that God hand-picked this house for us. It was the right price, in the right place, at the right time. Not to mention, it fit our needs perfectly.

Nestled neatly in the adjoining field stood a pecan grove that was stunningly beautiful and all ours. This grove is where the flower farm is located, so it seemed fitting to include “Grove” in the name. However, the “Ebenezer” aspect took a little longer to come into existence.

It came to me during a sermon one Sunday morning at our small little Baptist church. I remember reading the text from 1 Samuel Chapter 7 and the word just struck me. “Ebenezer” is a Hebrew word that means "stone of help". In the story, the prophet Samuel sets up a stone and calls it “Ebenezer” to commemorate how God helped the Israelites defeat the Philistines in battle. Samuel declares, “Thus far, the Lord has helped us.” It was such a revelation to me that I wrote “Ebenezer Grove” in the margin of my Bible.

I owe everything I have to God, and the only reason Ebenezer Grove Flower Co. is here is because the Lord has helped me. The only reason Ryan and I have this home is because the Lord helped us. We owe everything we have to the Lord, and we never want to forget how much He has done for us. Because of this, our company, in a sense, is our Ebenezer. We use it to glorify Him and to serve as a reminder to us of His great providence. My prayer for this business was and still is that God will continue to work in and through it. That He would take it and us where He wants us to go.

Thanks for joining me on this journey.