Chapter Three: Sowing the Seeds, Harvesting the Crop

I love, love, love to garden.
We have been gardening all week. I was out broadcasting seeds and watering them in this morning. I admit I was also singing to them out of a small superstition that they will feel more loved and anxious to appear. I want to communicate how much I love these seed and hope they germinate sooner rather than later. While standing there, breathing in the fresh air and rich earth smell, I started comparing parenting to planting a garden. My mind went wild with it- so bear with me.

I begin my spring by reading books on gardening. The bookstore and library call to me. I could spend hours and hours reading through the "how to" books and looking through the garden photography in my favorite magazines. I love looking through seed catalogs and want to buy from a reputable seed company. And when my seeds arrive I imagine what this seed will look like when it grows up and what the fruit will smell and taste like. I touch them gently, talk to them, and care for them. I ensure that the soil is right for the particular plant and I find the shady or sunny spot that is recommended in the books. I consult my friends with more gardening experience when necessary. I read the directions over and over and when the time is right, I nervously plant them, with high hopes that they will produce a magnificent plant. I want this baby to have every chance I can possibly give it to ensure it survives and thrives.
And sometimes I am totally surprised, and delighted, when I plant a seed and something unexpected springs up (and this happens frequently). Or when I plant two seemingly identical seeds and they sprout and blossom in to two unique plants with colors and flowers all their own.

I water and feed the plants fertilizer when necessary and then I wait, sometimes patiently and sometimes not so patiently, to see the first green sprout push back the soil and enter the world above. And once it arrives I dance around and sing to it hoping it will feel encouraged and excited about being part of my garden. How pleased I am to see these tiny, precious seedlings arrive. I dream of the day they will flower and fruit. And if I feel the spot I originally chose is not the best for my plant, I am willing to relocate her.

But, indeed, there are things I can't control: the intense heat of the summer, the ferocious spring rains, the infestation of undesirable bugs and weeds who could easily overpower and take my plant from me. There is only so much I can do for the plant to ensure its health and then I have to leave it out there, in the world, come what may.
I think this is the hardest part. I am so unhappy when I wake up in the mornings to find the pesky squirrels have run off with the bits of fruits. (Watch out squirrels because if I catch you ravaging my plant, I will hunt you down and hurt you.)

Just like with my precious kiddos- I can't control them, I don't own them, they are mine only for a season and then I have to let go. I will tend to them with love and patience and try to shield them from harm. I will consult other parents and read endless parenting books. I can sing and dance with them and pray over them that they will grow healthy and strong and live to be the anchor in our garden, bearing beautiful and delicious fruit in abundance. I want my kids to see their world for what it is- an amazing gift to be enjoyed and shared with others, a place to contribute their best and plant a garden all their own.