Summer's first peony

This is my first peony ever. .. to grow, that is.     My first peony  was one my husband, then my boyfriend, gave me when we were dating.  He picked it from his mother's full blooming bush in their yard.   It was the biggest, most beautiful flower on the bush but I didn't appreciate it . I felt like he should be sending me dozens of roses, not picking me flowers from his mother's flower garden. Since getting older and realizing how beautiful peonies are, I have come to appreciate how special that peony was. Not only did he find the best flower on the bush just for me but he gave me something that his mother had grown. He loved his mother dearly and was proud to give me a part of her.  Just recently, as I thought of this, I knew I had to have a peony bush. A dear friend shared a few of hers with me and we transplanted them last fall.  At the  time, they looked like they would never survive and I had little hope I would ever see a peony bloom.  But to my utter excitement this spring,    little green sprouts started poking up through the soil around the dead stem. The plants grew and thrived and before long,   buds began to appear..  I checked them every day with great expectation and sure enough they bloomed.  I do  not have a green thumb and just about everything I try to grow dies.  I am sure they survived because they were so healthy from the tender loving care my friend had given them and because my husband faithfully watered them when I forgot .  And too, God wants me to remember every time I look at them what a special, caring husband i have.