It wasn’t uncommon for me to receive a message that my front porch was loaded down with grocery bags of homegrown eggplant, cucumbers and squash. That backyard could grow things like some sort of magic wand was at the helm; however, the most important thing it ever grew was our friendship.
Our backyards were adjacent and to be perfectly honest I was not all too sure I cared to have neighbors that close. I desired room to grow, spread my wings, let the kids roam wild, all under a huge umbrella of privacy and general unfriendly armor.
And while some of those things were important at the time, our friendship that came to be was far more valuable than all of those things combined.
You see, this woman became my friend during a very stressful time in both of our lives: we were moving here and our house was on the market for several months and in the midst I learned I was pregnant with our youngest. As for my sweet friend, she was later ultimately diagnosed with cancer… words cannot properly describe what she endured. She fought so hard, so faithfully, so diligently.
That garden was a sanctuary of sorts: it required lots of time and effort with constant tending, planting, fertilizing, watering, pruning and most importantly it was often covered in prayer and love. As a bonus of our location, the air was always rather salty and stormy – the Gulf picking up and delivering minerals and earthly goodness… natural soil enhancers. It was told to me that often the best farming in the area came just months after volatile hurricanes and weather alike.
Once the garden became fruitful, not only would I have the spoils of her work for weeks but so would a special few with whom she would generously share.
You see, this eggplant wasn’t just an eggplant: it would be nearly the size of a watermelon and a deep, shiny purple. The cucumbers were the green of emeralds and had a distinct refreshing scent upon slicing. The squash had the most beautiful skin… if only my night cream could deliver the same. It all looked picture perfect and you just knew without hesitation it was going to be something special. Being the amateur chef I am, I was terrified of ruining all the precious work that had gone into each piece.
This friend and I grew closer and closer sharing recipes, speaking of how such-n-such turned out, what we may create next, what the neighborhood was up to, what the weather was like, parenting advice, and ultimately life advice. We quickly went from creating the best pickles I have ever had in my life to speaking of faith the size of a mustard seed: it’s no coincidence the recipe called for such (the mustard seeds).
And just when I thought my stress and world may come crashing down in the most stressful of (my) times, she shared her mustard seed with me. Her mustard seed of faith, tiny as a mustard seed may be… well, it was big enough for the both of us she said. She was right. She always was. Her strength and determination that things would work out for the best became adamant thoughts, guidance and rules in my world. My faith and my strength all became stronger because she was willing to share with me.
Just as she had taken the time to cultivate a thriving, magnificent garden… she took the time to cultivate, nourish, develop and maintain an incredible friendship with me; one that undoubtedly changed my life for the better. Just as she did with the garden, she maintained a beautiful relationship with me until the very end.
I’ll be forever grateful for all the best of things she gave to me, friendship and garden alike.
In hindsight, those pickles were just like her: really sweet and a little spicy in the best possible way, had just enough mustard seeds, easy to love… unforgettable.
In due time, and in her honor, I’ll start a garden one day. And as no surprise, just when I need a wink from Heaven most, a neighbor I’ve just met and would like to become friends with delivers squash to my front door.
My, oh my, how does your garden grow…
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