" They waited at the back door until the storm clouds passed. The sky was violet and the light was silver. Alice followed her mother into the garden that was glossy with rain. They came to a bush her mother had planted recently. When Alice last took notice, it was just a tumble of bright green leaves. Now, after the rain, the bush was thick with fragrant white flowers. She studied them in bewilderment.
'Thought you might like these,' her mother said.
'Is it magic?' Alice reached out to touch one of the petals.
'The best kind.' Her mother nodded. 'Flower magic.'
Alice bent down to get as close as she could. 'What are they, Mama?'
'Storm lilies. Just like the night you were born. They only flower after a good downpour.' Alice leant down and studied them closely. Their petals were flung open, leaving their centers fully exposed.
'They can't exist without rain?' Alice asked, straightening up. Her mother considered her for a moment before nodding.
'When I was in your father's truck the night you were born, they were growing wild by the road. I remember seeing them in bloom in the storm.' She looked away but Alice saw her mother's eyes fill.
'Alice,' her mother began. 'I planted the storm lilies here for a reason.'
Alice nodded.
'Storm lilies are a sign of expectation. Of the goodness that can come from hardship. "

― Holly Ringland , The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart