“This is going to be the best harvest yet!” I proclaimed to anyone who would listen. Last year’s garden, well, I wouldn’t even call it a garden. It was so sad that even the deer and rabbits didn’t think it was worth their time. There was nowhere to go but up. So, with the wind in my sail and ambition in my heart I set out to make the best garden we have ever had. As I planted those fifty onions I could see them hanging beautifully in my kitchen. Those one hundred tomato plants I planted would turn into beautiful jars of spaghetti sauce. The cucumbers would make an endless supply of pickles. “What, my dear son, you’re hungry again? Have a pickle, I have an endless supply.” The pumpkins would be adorning my Thanksgiving table and jumping into homemade pies. Yes, it was going to be good!
Then it happened. The cat was the first to attack my dream, digging up half of my precious seedlings. No biggie, I will plant a few more. Then, it was the random night of frost…in May! I lost half my plants to that frost. Some recovered, but were crippled, and never quite grew into healthy plants. And last was the drought, over a month of no rain. I began having nightmares of last year’s garden.
It takes a village, or in my case, neighbors. Their plants survived the frost, they had no cats, and they were able to water through the drought due to multiple sources of water on their property. They dropped off zucchini, tomatoes, cucumbers, grapes, watermelon, corn, green beans and the list goes on. Touched by each offering, I set my arms to work preserving the abundance given to me.
No, my garden didn’t go as planned, but my pantry will still be full and I have felt once again the warmth of community and the blessing of other’s abundance. And one day I will be able to pass it on and be that abundance for others. For now, every jar of yumminess I open this winter will be a reminder that we were never meant to blaze the trail alone. It takes a village.
~Amanda