The Quality of the Harvest
"Gardening, like your life, isn't a project you tend to when it's the
right season. It takes planning and readiness all year long," the man
told me.
I went to the local hardware store on Saturday looking for some parts I
needed to fix a faucet in our kitchen. My wife has much confidence in
my ability to figure how to do such things, but also knows it will take
much longer than necessary and I'll injure myself.
It did and I did.
Don't ask me how it happened, but I didn't injure myself working on the
plumbing. I cut myself laying down contact paper under the sink. No, I
didn't cut myself on the paper. I have no idea how this happened but it
did. And it always does.
Maybe I should call this story "Things you can depend on." Not only
because I injured myself but the fact that whenever I head out into the
world I can depend on meeting someone with a message I needed to hear.
Saturday was no different.
I wandered into the garden shop in search of Spring and signs of life.
Spring is life and as I tell you often, life is in the details. Winter's details
are brilliant, but I can't wait for Spring.
Although people maybe thinking and longing for Spring here, very few if
any, are headed to the garden supply shops. Except for Peter.
Peter was about my age, average height, touches of white around each
temple and when it came to gardening very knowledgeable.
"I didn't expect to see anyone in this section so early," I said as I
entered the room.
"Why not?" he replied.
"Well Spring hasn't arrived yet. Although I've been carrying
it around in my heart for months now." I said smiling.
"Well, my uninformed friend, gardening, like your life, isn't a project
you tend to when it's the right season. It takes planning and readiness
all year long," Peter told me.
Okay, he had my attention. I know I don't know much about gardening,
but life? I pride myself on my life skills.
"But gardening is seasonal. I never saw anyone in their garden with
snow up to their knees," I said.
"That's because a good gardener is inside planning, reading and yes
growing. There are things we can grow early enough to get a head start
on the season. Just like you should in life."
"Go on," I urged him.
"About five years ago, my wife died. One never plans for that. How
could you? In life there is a season for that and we hadn't even come
near that time. Using the same comparison, our two children were in
their growing season. Like in gardening we tended to their needs with
nourishment, special care and lots of love. The saddest thing is we
never got to the best season of all," he said as he shook his head.
"Harvest time?" I asked.
"Yes, the harvest of our lives. The season after you have worked life's
garden, planted for the future, and pulled all the weeds. The time to
sit back and enjoy the fruits of our labor never came. At least not
together. Our children are growing and they bring much life into my
world. I see them blossoming into all that God had created them to be.
But I see it alone." he said now lowering his head and turning away from me.
"Let me ask you something. I plant a seed and the flower grows. At the
same time my neighbor down the street plants the same flower and it
grows. Mine is thin, with few blooms. Hers is full and healthy
looking. The same seed, different gardener. I would guess then that
the gardener is reflected in the beauty of the flower, right?" I asked.
"Yes, I guess so."
"Then you are not alone, my friend, for the beauty of your wife is
reflected in your children. God provided the seeds, you and your wife
made them to grow, and when her harvest came early, she left the garden
in good hands," I said.
"I never thought of it that way. You are right. The beauty that I see
in my world is a reflection of her and I. They are with me always.
Then so is she," he said now smiling.
Taking advantage of the moment I replied, "And I have gained a new
insight on gardening and my life. You do reap what you sow and the
quality of the harvest lies in the gardener. When it seems that the
Winter in our lives will never leave, remember that "All the flowers of
all our tomorrows are in the seeds of today." Robert H. Schuller"
Just then his children came running through the door.
"Here comes tomorrow's flowers," he said.
"Daddy, could we plant Daisies again this year?" one child asked.
"Yes, of course. They were Mom's favorite," he said.
"Ours, too!" they said in unison.
"That doesn't surprise me," Dad said as he smiled and kissed them.
~ Bob Perks ~
2believe@comcast.net
[ by: Bob Perks Copyright © 2008 (2believe@comcast.net) -- {used with permission} ]
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