The Westman is a place where history and hospitality meet. The building first served as Bend’s downtown post office before becoming an office building and, eventually, the hotel guests know today. Throughout each chapter, these trees have quietly connected the past to the present. Their survival, however, wasn’t accidental.

Christin’s love of plants began long before she ever stepped foot inside the old post office. It started with her great-grandmother in California. “She could grow anything,” Christin recalls. “Her yard was beautiful.” Christin’s great-grandmother had an almost magical ability to coax life from even the smallest cutting. She could pluck a single leaf from a plant, root it, and grow an entirely new one. Christin laughs that, despite decades of experience, she still hasn’t quite mastered that particular trick.

Like many meaningful careers, Christin’s grew naturally. After moving to Bend in 1976, she began working at Marvin’s Gardens, a local greenhouse that longtime residents may remember fondly. It was much more than a nursery: it was a gathering place filled with hummingbirds, towering tropical plants, and people lingering over coffee while wandering through lush greenhouses. When Marvin’s eventually closed, Christin started her own interior plant care business as a single mother, ensuring that her daughter also grew up right alongside the plants, carrying tiny watering jugs and spray bottles while accompanying her mom on plant care visits. Those early outings became something much bigger than a childhood memory. They became part of The Westman’s story.

In the fall of 1992, Christin received a call to consult on two struggling ficus trees inside the former post office building. Sticky residue covered the floors beneath them, and Christin knew the culprit at once. It was scale: a tiny insect capable of causing big problems. The trees needed help. Thankfully, Christin knew exactly what to do.

Week after week, she and her daughter carefully treated every trunk and every leaf, patiently wiping away the insects one by one. It wasn’t glamorous work. It was meticulous, repetitive, and often invisible to everyone except the two people doing it. Slowly, the trees recovered.

Thirty-four years later, they’re still thriving.

As the years passed, Christin watched the building evolve around them. The old post office gave way to office spaces, and one longtime tenant was Morgan Stanley, where Christin also became the trusted caretaker of the office plants. She recalls the transition, and how at least once a week someone would come asking to mail a package, no matter how many signs had been posted informing the public that the post office had moved. Like trees, traditions have strong roots in Bend.

Then came the renovation that would transform the building into The Westman Hotel, and for the first time in decades, the trees had to leave home.

Finding temporary housing for towering ficus trees is easier said than done, but fortunately, another building owned by the property’s owner offered a new place for them to stay. It wasn’t exactly ideal. Instead of bright windows, lively conversations, and curious visitors, the trees spent nearly three years in a quiet, stuffy building, without the air, light, or company of their previous home.

“They were used to people,” Christin says. This change was difficult.

The trees dropped leaves. Their surroundings felt unfamiliar. Christin worried constantly. So, she did what any devoted caretaker would do: she brought them music. A radio played while no one was there. Fans kept the air moving. She visited faithfully every week, doing everything she could to help them through the long wait until they could return.

Finally, the day arrived. With the help of The Westman team, the trees were carefully moved back into their restored home.

Even now, Christin becomes emotional talking about it. She remembers feeling so relieved that they had survived. More than that, she remembers how quickly they seemed to come alive again once people filled the building. According to her, plants crave company. As people returned, guests would reach out gently to touch the leaves as they passed by, and the trees flourished.

“They were so happy to be back,” Christin said. “Plants truly enjoy being around people.”

In fact, if there was one thing Christin wished everyone knew about houseplants, it’s that they aren’t simply decorations; they’re living things that respond to their environment. Throughout her career, Christin has witnessed plants struggle in empty vacation homes, only to flourish once people return. She encourages owners to group plants together so that they always have companions. Then just add some circulating air, a little humidity, and yes, music.

When interviewing Christin for this spotlight, we asked if she had a favorite plant. But to her, such a question is almost like asking her to choose a favorite child. Professionally, she’s especially fond of a pair of hibiscus trees and a stunning gardenia she’s cared for over many years. At home, the variety of orchids captures her imagination, and she also adores the staghorn fern. But The Westman’s ficus trees hold a special place in her heart. After all, how could they not? They’ve shared company for more than thirty years, and together, they’ve watched Bend grow. They’ve weathered pests, renovations, relocations, and decades of change. And through it all, Christin has shown up every single week.

Hotels are places of movement. Guests arrive with suitcases, stories, and plans for adventure before heading off to wherever life takes them next. The trees, however, offer something different. They invite us to slow down. The greenery inside The Westman welcomes you the moment you walk through the front door, softening the space and offering a bit of the outdoors inside.

They also remind us that history isn’t only found in bricks and blueprints. Sometimes history is alive, growing quietly in a corner, cared for by someone whose work rarely seeks the spotlight.

So the next time you find yourself at The Westman, take a moment before heading to your room or leaving to explore downtown Bend. Look up and notice the broad branches stretching toward the light. And, if you’re so inclined, run your hand gently across a leaf. According to Christin, they’ll appreciate the hello.