Lessons from the garden: Hope

These little plots of soil have taught me much.

In the first few weeks of spring bliss, I dug deep in the dirt and sewed many tiny seeds. Seeds of beets, carrots, beans, zucchini and hope. I had hope in them – every one – that they would grow and bring forth fruit. As each day passed, I went out to my sacred soil patch and witnesses miracles. Watching these seedlings burst through the soil and thrust toward the sun was like a balm to my soul. Some plants struggled, so I supported them and replanted along the way. I watered them, nurtured them and protected them as best as I could.

And then it hit.

As I sat perched on my window sill, I watched as balls of ice, as if flung from the heavens, laid waste to my tender plants. There was nothing else I could do. I was as frozen as those golf ball sized pieces of hail. So I sat. And watched.

When it was safe to do so, I went out and knelt by my little miracles. In disbelief, I pulled what could be salvaged and went about tending what else had been damaged by the hail. Once the kids were down for the night, I laid in bed and wept. The sobs quickly turned to wails as I felt I lost so much more than just plants. I had also lost hope. I had poured my heart and soul into these plants and just like that, they are gone. I had so much hope for them…

I was in a state of mourning, very similar to the state I was in when we lost our first child. I was wishing, grasping at anything that could turn back the hands of time and reverse what had just happened. But alas, that is not possible. I cried until my body gave way to sleep.

2 days later, upon returning from a much needed quadding trip into the mountains, I went out to see my sweet garden again. I felt the weight of it all coming back to me as I walked down the steps and approached the little beds. As my eyes well with tears, they caught hold of something. I pushed back the dirt a little bit and saw the most beautiful thing – the tender hook of a green bean plant emerging for the first time. The tears came gushing and I threw myself to the earth.

My garden is growing hope. Even when all is destroyed, there is new birth. Even when the darkness envelopes, the sun will rise again. Even when your heart is broken, it can be mended. With hope.

Gardening is Holy work.