(My) Tulip Thief

Jascin N. Leonardo Finger • May 7, 2018

That was a long winter.  Typically, I don’t complain but it was not nice weather-wise.  And the cold and the wind – couldn’t Mother Nature have given us some more snow to at least enjoy – and break out that new sled we got my son – a “big boy sled.”


In any case, I have been watching the tulips I planted last fall in front of the Mitchell House.  They started to break ground, then it got cold, then they came up a little more, then the bunnies got to them.  (We now have THREE bunnies at Mitchell House.  Imagine how many babies we will have!  ARGH!)


I’ve been watching and watching these tulips as their leaves twisted, were eaten, snapped at by cold, flurries, and frost.  And then, they started to grow more, and to show buds, and color!  Is spring REALLY here?

And then the other night, a thief came!  I had not even gotten down to Mitchell House yet when our Executive Director stopped me and said he had a, “What would Jascin do moment.”  Not sure if I should be honored.  But, needless to say from out of his window after dinner he spied a young man on his bicycle, bending over the Mitchell House fence, snipping away at the tulips!  He raced downstairs in his pajamas and politely confronted the thief.  The thief was embarrassed, taken aback, and was told to, “Drop the tulips!” – well, not exactly.  He was told to leave them and then politely told that the MMA pays for those tulips and the work that goes into gardening.  The thief left sheepishly.


The next day, I was in the Mitchell House with the front door open doing my annual mildew cleaning of the front sitting room ceiling when I heard someone at the door trying to open the locked screen.  I got off my scaffold and found a young man at the door who I did not completely recognize at first.  Then he said my name and I knew who it was.  With him, he had a bag with three pots of tulips.  “You’re my thief!?” I exclaimed.  He replied, “They were just so pretty that I couldn’t resist.  I just wanted them.”  This thief is a former student of mine – way back from when in addition to the MMA, I also was a teacher.  He is one of those students who could be trying at times, always pushing the edge, always finding something to get himself into trouble, but one that you will forever have a soft spot for.  I hugged him.  Yelled at him.  Told him he only had to ask first, and then told him the names of his stolen items – Viricic and Beauty of Spring tulips from the Colorblends Company.  And then gave him heck because I told him about the bunnies.  I cannot be mad at him – he has a soft spot for gardens and flowers so I will take my choice of tulips – and my Mother’s – as a compliment.


(I’m thinking if further time is needed, he can come help me weed this summer.)


JNLF

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By Jascin N. Leonardo Finger December 15, 2025
[1855] On the 12 th [December] at 8 o’clock, I found a comet in Cetus. It is probably that seen by Bruhns in Berlin on Nov. 12. It is round and bright and moved so rapidly that in an hour I was certain of its change of place. From 8 to 10 ½ it had moved about half the diameter of my field of view. I tho’t it varied in its light but of this I am not quite certain, as I at times changed from one instrument to another, and I cannot be certain that my eye was not somewhat affected by the size of different powers, so as to affect my judgement. I would give a good deal for it to be my own possession, because it would convince me that I was not declining in vigor.  This comet, unlike her won comet of October 1, 1847, is fairly fast moving – it would take many calculations and much time for her comet to illustrate its movement – beyond just the appearance of its “tail.” Maria had made earlier comments in the month about if being a hard year – the hardest of her life. The loss of friends, her mother’s illness. But this, with other matters, buoyed her spirit and she talked about her “blessings.” This comet was one seen by Maria only eight years after her comet discovery so it seems interesting that she feels she is slipping and not as “vigorous” – she is only thirty-seven years old at this date. JNLF
By Jascin N. Leonardo Finger December 9, 2025
Another re-blog. I came across this recently while looking through my computer files. I want to re-blog it in memory of Jean Hughes, an incredibly gifted islander, who was directly influential in the lives of so many island children and those in need. She was the Coffin School Trustee’s President for many years and I had the honor to serve as a trustee under her. She passed away in the summer of 2025. Jeanie loaned me this from her family collections as she thought I would enjoy it. She knew me better than I thought she did. With love. 1830s Chinese silk to be exact. It literally floated into my lap as I sat reading a letter.  A letter from a young Nantucket girl to her grandparents. A young girl who just several years before had moved from tiny Nantucket Island to San Francisco with her mother to join her father. He had moved for better work and a better life. Nantucket was in an economic decline. Reading this treasure trove of letters – loaned to me by a friend who is a descendant of these people I mention – was like spying on them. Now, when I read Mitchell family letters and writing it is slightly different for me. Having worked in the Mitchell House for so long, I feel like they are a part of my family. This batch of letters was different however. I felt like they know I read their letters – as if they were looking over my shoulder or sitting on the other side of the room aghast. I felt like they thought no one ever would – or at the very least an outsider – read this correspondence. The worse letter one was the son writing to his mother upon receipt of her letter telling him of his father’s death. That was hard. Made harder because he thought his father was fine – he was as of the last letter a month or two before. Made harder as I lost my own Father a little over a year ago. I knew how he felt – but cannot imagine receiving a letter that is about a month old telling one of such horrible news. He had not seen his father in several years. I could speak to my Father, visited him monthly, and was there with him. That was not an easy letter to read. The silk fabric piece is quite beautiful – and still pristine – as if it was just folded into the letter yesterday. She wanted to share with her grandparents the dress that her cousin had brought to her directly from Hong Kong. A cousin, who was likely pregnant – or “sick” as was written but it was obvious what “sick” meant (yes, pregnancy was looked at as an illness in a way – and there were high rates of infant and mother mortality during and immediately following birth). The cousin had travelled back and forth to Hong Kong on the China Trade with her husband it seems but due to the pregnancy had to be put off with family or others until the baby was born. This was a common practice for the wives of whale captains who might go to sea with their husbands. They were put off with other whaling families or missionaries in far off ports so that they could have their baby where others could help. Sometimes they were put off months in advance. And, did you know that Nantucket whale wives were the FIRST to go to sea with their captains husbands? They set the trend – after all, we were the whaling capital of the world. At least, until we lost that title for multiple reasons. I digress. The other piece that leads one to realize that money was to be had – at least for the cousin – is that she didn’t bring fabric – she brought the dress already made in Hong Kong. Yes, it would have been less costly there than in the United States but it shows there was extra money for spending. And, there was enough excess fabric inside the dress for this young girl to cut off a piece of it and send it to her grandparents. Making them feel as if they were a part of her daily life – and making her feel that way too. So far from home. On the other side of the continent with Nantucket Sound in the midst, to boot. JNLF
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“If you don’t look, you don’t see. You have to go and look.” -Edith Andrews
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