Last winter I vowed to finally grow a gorgeous, productive garden on this new homestead. I planned and bought seeds, sketched out the beds, lugged bags of compost and labored over my project in the heat of the early spring sun. After transferring my precious seedlings into the beds, I would drag the hose 300 feet to the garden and water and hope. But there was a problem.

Each night I went out to water, a plant was missing. First the lettuce. Then the beets. Each day, a square of my beautiful plants turned up empty. After the rabbits, the bugs came. And the scorching heat. My kale, riddled with holes, lay limp and dejected in the dry dirt. Many seeds I planted seemed to be duds, no little shoots of green came up. With no more garden money in my budget for the year, I sadly put my hose away one night and gave it up. Next year, again. I’ll take what I’ve learned and have a beautiful garden, I vowed.

Weeks went by. The sun beat down, hardly any rain came through. I stayed away from the garden. Surely, everything that was left must be dead by now. A sad lump of disappointment formed in my stomach whenever I walked past the overgrown weed tangle that was my garden. Finally, I decided I’d better clean up the weeds before they completely take over and make it a lot harder to garden next year.

I gingerly opened the makeshift gate into the garden, averting my eyes from the tall mass of weeds. With a small sigh of defeat, I bent over, grabbed the closest weed, and started to pull. But what was that? There, between the weeds? It was- but no, it couldn’t be- a huge, beautiful ZUCCHINI! I gasped in shock, so loudly it sent the nearest chicken running, startled from the bushes. Gingerly, I pushed more weeds aside. Another one! And another! And on the other side- tomatoes! And in the corner over there, peeking between the crabgrass- sage and basil! I was overjoyed. My little garden persevered. With my hope renewed, I weeded and pulled every invasive plant, being careful not to hurt the garden plants. Many things I had planted were still gone. But the things that were…. beautiful! Those little plants persevered and taught me the greatest lesson of all- NEVER. GIVE. UP! 

Jul 25, 2017