Alyice on April 17th, 2008

The Garden Phase

I remember as a young girl, living in the projects, begging my mother to allow me to grow my own vegetables. She didn’t think the soil was good enough but agreed to give it a try. We planted a patch of veggies close to our home and every day I would come home and water them—waiting anxiously for the day the sprouts would appear and real vegetables would begin to form. After weeks of impatient waiting it finally happened…sprouts turned into yummy looking vegetables.

Of course I was going to have to wait until my mom got home to pull them—just to make sure they were actually ready to eat. I counted the hours until I could get back home. I wondered what they would taste like. I wondered if they would taste better than store bought vegetables. And I wondered how many there actually were.

Only I arrived home to a huge disappointment because someone had stolen all my vegetables. Yep, they just plucked them right out of the ground—leaving nothing but the holes in which they grew.

Disappointed, I was ready to give up. But my mother thought we should give it another try. She was sure some animal had taken the vegetables so this time we put up a little fence. But guess what? They disappeared too—just like my mom’s underwear every time she hung them on the clothes line. That was the last time we planted vegetables.

Fourteen years later, after marrying my husband, we moved into a rental house with what appeared to be a nice patch of dirt—perfect for planting a garden. But I was wrong. The previous tenant worked out of the garage and used that patch of dirt to dump chemicals. Nothing would ever grow there again so we talked the landlord into patching the area up with cement, instead.

Eleven years later, after living in our brand new home for three years, I not only had my first real vegetable garden but we had planted several varieties of trees and even built a beautiful fort that would double as a play area for the kids and a trellis for grapes. We, however, were never able to reap the benefits of our labor as we moved out of state that same summer.

Five years after leaving my beautiful garden behind we rented a home with enough space to grow double the vegetables and soil that was amazingly nourished. With the help of my husband we planted corn, pumpkins, zucchini, cabbage, beans, carrots, green onions, and tomatoes. Every morning was spent weeding and tending to the garden and every evening was spent watering by hand. Sure, I could have used a sprinkler system but there was something so relaxing about the whole watering experience that I couldn’t give it up—no matter how much my husband begged.

The amazing thing about that first crop was that I grew it in a scorching hot summer when nearby farms and gardens were having difficulty keeping their vegetation alive. It was as though God had looked down from heaven and blessed me with the fruits of my labor and it felt wonderful!

Now, every spring I look forward to getting my hands dirty and my husband looks forward to seeing the excitement in my eyes as I discover a new sprout or pull freshly grown vegetation from my very own garden. It still amazes me that so much life can come from such a tiny seed and all it takes is a little tender loving care.