In My Mother’s Garden
I visited my mother’s garden and walked around. The fairies and many different flowers make this a magical place. Some are elegant and showy while others are merely weeds. She can see their beauty while most people mow them over.
In my mother’s garden as a young girl I learned how much work a garden was. We had a fairly large vegetable garden, and with our hard work it produced much of our food throughout the winter. Hard work is still needed for productivity, whether it is physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual.
Her garden is where I learned that the daffodil is my favorite plant. It’s bright yellow bloom signals the return of the sun and longer days. It is a hopeful flower that makes me smile to this day. Just as the cold bleak winter will surely leave, all things will change with the rising and setting of the sun.
It’s where I learned that the same treatment for two individual plants did not produce equal results, and now I know that is true of people also. Some will flourish with normal care, while others require much more to support them and help them produce.
It’s where I first took a chance at growing my own fruits and vegetables. It’s where I first experimented with herbs. In my mother’s garden I had the freedom to explore who I was and draft who I wanted to become.
In my mother’s garden I became observant trying to distinguish weeds from wanted plants. I try to take that same observant nature with me everywhere I go. I find it helps me cultivate a better life for myself.
In my mother’s garden I learned that dreams are like seeds. Both need to be tended carefully and fed lovingly to sprout and mature. It is only with tenacious care that they will bear fruit.
In my mother’s garden I learned that the seasons will come and the seasons will go. As surely as a seed sprouts, the plant will eventually die. Sometimes, it is only for a long rest; other times it is until their own seed sprouts bringing a part of them back to life.
It is where I discovered a love of the secret wisdom of plants. They are filled with tons of information and miracles if we take the time to ask. Not all learning can come from a book; sometimes, we must look elsewhere for our information. Perhaps we get our answers from plants, or for some we must look within ourselves for those answers.
In my mother’s garden I learned that no matter how short I might be I can still stand tall for what I believe in. The characteristics of a living thing are more important than the size. A dwarf tree can produce quite well.
It’s where I first tasted the sweetness of a strawberry straight from the plant–warm, juicy, seedy. It’s the epitome of a successful gardening season, the fruit of the flower harvested and enjoyed.
It’s my fantasy that some day a grown man will look back and remember what he learned in his mother’s garden.
Amanda Says:
Many of life’s lessons can be learned in the garden. For me it was my father’s garden. He had the green thumb, but my mother worked in the kitchen to put everthing up for winter. I have learned so many lessons from them and continue to learn on a daily basis.
Teresa Says:
I am fortunate enough to have my parents both living just a short distance away yet, so I keep learning from them still. Sounds like you are lucky that way too.
SoapBoxTech Says:
Your mother`s garden is amazing indeed. I`ve always been fond of my mother`s garden as well.