Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Seeds of Life

            Sometimes it’s the simple things we share with our children that have the most dramatic impact on their lives. Prior to and for a few years after the birth of our daughter, my husband and I were avid gardeners. Back in the early 70’s we faithfully read Rodale’s Organic Gardening and applied the lessons learned. We planted a wide variety of vegetables in the garden at our home and maintained an additional plot at a community site, specifically designated for corn. A move overseas followed by years of Florida living ended our gardening adventures.
            Our daughter is a confirmed urban dweller and prefers the city to the country. Two years ago, along with a few friends, she ventured into canning. Last summer she and her husband took the next step and secured a plot in one of Boston’s communal garden sites. In addition, a request came for any canning supplies we had in storage. We packed up our thirty-something year old Victorio Strainer and sent it off to serve our next generation of family gardeners. She was ecstatic and our old friend got a new lease on life.
            Patriot’s Day is a state holiday in Massachusetts. It also marks the running of the Boston Marathon and the unofficial start of the gardening season. My daughter usually grabbed breakfast and headed to the finish line to cheer the wheelchair and elite racers. Last year she called us all excited. “Turn on the TV and find the race coverage. I’m on the Jumbotron at the finish line.” We scrambled, searched sports channels and internet feeds, but alas, we missed her debut on the big screen.
            This year, instead of being at “their spot” at the finish line, my daughter was at the garden. When I called to check on her, I was unprepared for the sound of her tearful, frightened voice. She couldn’t reach her husband; calls to his phone went to voicemail. She didn’t know if he went to the race. If he had, he'd have been at “their spot,” the scene of the first bomb explosion. My heart sank. Thoughts of “what if” bombarded my mind. Fear attempted to grip my soul. Suddenly her voice changed. A text from her husband confirmed he was at home safe and sound. For our family, the day had a happier, although not completely up-beat ending.
            As a mother I can’t imagine the pain experienced at the death of a child. Our son-in-love is the son we never had. To lose him would’ve devastated all of us. Daily we pray angelic protection around them both, and the angels did their jobs that day. I wouldn’t have guessed that the seeds of gardening planted in my daughter’s life so long ago would bloom and not only produce a second generation gardener, but also would one day save her life.


  1. I LOVED this blog, Mary. Between the reference to gardening plus the reminder of the impact we have in our children's/grandchildren's lives that God chooses to work through, it blessed my heart. I praise God for HIS working all things together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. :)

  2. Mary: We have a friend here in Indiana who has a granddaughter who had been at that spot on Patriot Day. She had just left right before the bomb exploded at the finish line.
    Your entry here is special, as my husband had a garden for several years until his health started failing. I miss having tomatoes in abundance.