Seeds of Friendship

I had grown up on the south shore of Boston and commuting to the city on the busy trains became an everyday way of life.  I became quite proficient at hopping from bus to train to another train in the morning and doing it backwards in the evening; a total of six stops and transfers a day.  So when my husband got a job in Columbus, Ohio, I looked forward to a slower pace where my daughter could have a big back yard instead of the car-filled blacktop "playground" she was used to.

Arriving in January, with snow sprinkled on the ground, I could see where the previous owners had made a flowerbed.  I was thrilled.  I had worked as a child in my Grandfather's gardens and had learned a few things about gardening, but, being the artist that I am, this was like a blank canvas to me.

The first thing I did was going out and buy a few garden books.  I even started a journal titling it "The Amateur Gardener."  My first purchase was some gladiola bulbs.  I knew it was the wrong time to be planting the, but I had limited funds available for my new venture and after all they were on sale!

One of my greatest pleasures were the days I went to yard sales.  It was a chance for me to question other gardeners about their flowers.  It seemed to me that every time I asked what type of flower they had growing, my fellow gardeners would jump up, leaving the selling of knick knacks to someone else and walk over to the flower in question and began, just for me, teaching me a new lesson about flowers and gardening. 

On every occasion where I asked someone about what type of flower they had, the same thing happened. I would come home with flowers from their gardens with directions on how to take care of them, or for me it would be, "How to not kill these plants." Each one of these gardeners wanted to share with me a species of plant they had lovingly tended and now entrusted me with their upkeep.  They told me stories of where the flowers came from.  Some tended gardens their parents had started; others planted flowers when they moved into their very first house some twenty, thirty or more years ago. I felt so honored that they would share their wisdom, their history and their plants with me. I could only hope that I had a hidden "Green thumb" somewhere because I had yet to find it.

I received Irises, Liles of the Valley (the flower representing my birthday month,) Day Lilies and other miscellaneous types of flora that I took home and preceded to plant in my own well-loved garden hoping that I would soon see a garden emerging from the heavy clay soil.  It was so satisfying to see them blooming and thriving; I must have found my "Green thumb" somewhere along the way.

Every winter I would dream of what new plants I would try; anxiously awaiting the colorful catalogs that I would peruse over and over again until I was certain that I hadn't missed any offerings that I wanted to plan.  So many to chose from.  How could you choose just a few?  The pictures were beautiful that I could see them in my minds eye, thriving from my gentle care. I was definitely like "a kid in a candy store." 

One winter I decided that our back yard needed some tending to since the front was well taken care of.  I began creating the backyard oasis that was desperately needed.  Knowing that there were a lot of birds in the area, I wanted to create a bird and butterfly garden.   So I set about looking in my treasured garden books and chose the flowers that I liked and proceeded to buy the seeds and over the winter I watched the fragile shoots grow.  I was so excited about my seedlings envisioning my future garden complete with flowers, birds, butterflies and a birdbath.

In April we got a phone call.  The company that my husband used to work for back in Massachusetts wanted him to return and was offering him more money than what he was earning here.  We missed our families so the decision was made to return but not until we had a yard sale.

At the sale, a young woman was asking ME about MY plants.  I presently left my husband to the task of selling our trinkets and went over to answer my question.  She seemed to know a little about plants; such as I did at my first yard sale in Ohio.  We began addressing my inability to get the trees from the "Arbor Day Foundation" that I had ordered and was not able to get them to thrive.  Our conversation continued while I was showing her what I was growing for my new garden.

Sitting in their peat pots on the back patio, I knew they would never make the trip east so I asked her if she would like any of them.  She was surprised and so excited about my offer.  We found a tray to put them in and then went to the front garden.  I asked her if she wanted any of the violets she had so admired.  With a smile on her face she nodded happily and I began to dig them up for her.

At this point, her friend came to join her to see what was going on.  The woman I ad given the flowers to seemed so genuinely pleased that I offered her friends some for her own garden. As we stood and talked, I asked if they needed any seeds.  I had accumulated a lot of seeds from last year's plants, so I figured I could share these also.

After all the plants and seeds had been given, I continued talking with them and shared my story of going to yard sales and coming home so satisfied and eager plant my new additions.  I felt my life had come full circle.  Mandy, the woman who I gave the flowers and seeds to, told me that she came from a family of artists.  Hanging in her ears were tiny origami swans.  She told me she had made them and took them off her ears and gave them to me.  I was shocked.  I did not expect anything for my flowers, however, I understood later why she did that.