The Gardener's Touch

As I've mentioned in previous posts, my grandmother was born and raised in a traditional Christian home in South Carolina. As such, I never saw her stray from the rules of her conservative upbringing. She attended church on a regular basis, worked hard during the week, and rested on Sundays. She was kind, a little opinionated now and then, and one of the most prolific gardeners I've ever known.

Once in awhile however, she became angry. And on more than one occasion, I was the cause of her agitated state. Most of our disagreements occurred when I was a kid, usually when she caught me doing something stupid, like using all of her tinfoil to roll my hair before going to Bible school.

On these occasions, she'd take a deep breath, put her hands on her hips, and just stare at me for a few seconds. Then, in a voice infused with a southern accent, she informed me why my behavior was foolish and encouraged me not to do it again. She never cursed or spanked me, although there were times she had every reason to.

To this day, I truly believe her patience and her gentle spirit contributed to the success she had in her garden year after year. She could grow anything green, including grandchildren. And for that, I'm most grateful.