We Need More Gardeners

The Joys of Gardening

“The success of next year’s crop depends on how well you did your fall cleanup.” I finished my fall cleanup this week. I am a gardener. It is a description of who I am, not just what I do. When I coached, I told my kids that there is a big difference between those who are football players and those who play football. Guys who play football usually leave the game and considerer it something they used to do. Football players, on the other hand, never leave the game, they take it with them, and most wish they could still play. Football players internalize all those motivational phrases posted in locker rooms. “Focus downfield, no meaningful action ever took place behind the ball.” Or “Friday night games are won or lost in practice Monday through Thursday.” Football players make these bits of wisdom part of who they are forever, not just when they play the game. The same can be said for gardeners. There have been times in my life when I lived in a sea of concrete and had no place to grow vegetables, but I remained a gardener and returned to raising homegrown tomatoes as soon as I could.

I was raised on a dirt farm. Dairy cows kept us from starving, and working our neighbors land allowed us to have new shoes to wear back to school in the fall. There is a big difference between farming and gardening. Farmers try to make a living. They work on a thin margin and need to make sound financial decisions. A single crop failure can be an economic disaster. Gardeners, on the other hand, have no profit motive. Their seeds frequently cost more than the value of their crop. If I considered the financial return of my time spent hoeing and weeding, it would be far less than minimum wage. My wife tells the story of the time I picked a wheelbarrow load of spinach and took it to her to can. She spent several hours washing, trimming, and packing the leaves in jars. When finished, she had five pints of canned spinach. I did my own canning after that.

Non-gardeners drive by admiring my straight weed free rows and wonder why anyone would go to all that work for so little gain. If asked, I generally tell them it’s my only opportunity to be partners with God. God makes things grow, and I keep the weeds out. Women are God’s partner in the miracle of new life. Men’s contribution pales by comparison. When I garden, I feel a closeness to my Maker that I can’t achieve any other way. I feel a part of the cycle of life. I look forward to the annual spanakopita I make with the first spinach. Shortly thereafter, we enjoy fresh asparagus every day for a month. Peas are frozen for the winter, and fresh salads last until mid-July. Corn and tomatoes adorn our table before the first of August and last until frost. We frequently have meals in September when everything but the salt comes from the garden.

I enjoy sharing with my friends and neighbors. I have heard it said that love it the only thing that increases when you give it away. I love my garden, so I give it away. I once offered to give pumpkins to the first-grade class. The teacher decided to make an annual field trip out of it. She would march her charges the block and a half from school to my garden to wander and make their choice. I found that six-year-old kids often had bigger ambitions than reality allows. They would struggle with the largest pumpkins in the patch until settling on one they could carry back to their classroom. The teacher would then have each student write a thank-you note as their first school writing assignment. I read them all and have them filed away with my special mementos.

Gardeners have a personal relationship with the Creator of the universe, and they realize that any benefits received are the result of a lot of hard work. Gardeners also share with their neighbors without expecting payment or reward. If more of our state and national leaders were gardeners, the world would be a better place.