My Grandmother's Garden

It is funny the things that we remember all of our lives. Those things that remain so vivid that we can still feel things like the way the sun was shining on a certain day or time. Perhaps it is where we were at a certain moment.

For me, one of those things is my grandmother's home. It is not just the house I speak of but the outside as well all around the farm.

And most of all in my memory is her garden.

"The garden" really was two separate areas. In one she would grow squash and pumpkins. Occasionally, she would grow gourds, but these were mainly intended to be used for birdhouses for the "Jenny's". This was the pet name she used to refer to the Jenny Wrens that seemed to be everywhere around her home.

But closer to the house was the garden that contained everything else. It was large and always full. There were beans, and tomatoes, lettuces, and cabbages, carrots, radishes, peppers and green peppers, okras and onions, turnips and beets, on and on it would go.

And edged around this on all but one side was a riot of colorful flowers that were treated with the same care as any onion or carrot.

This drew in the bees and those who busied themselves to pollinate the blooms. It was also something more. It too was for the purpose of being fed, but this was not for the body.

The rows of hollyhocks, and zinnias, marigolds, prickly poppy, cosmos, four-o-clocks, snapdragons, poppies, iris and on and on they went.

These fed the soul as well.

At the end of a very busy day making time to sit and just admire was cooling and restful after the fever pitch of the day.

Everything seemed to begin to still.The cool of the evening would just start to settle and the metal lawn chair would be chilly at times against the back of your legs. This is one of those memories that still gives comfort and yet can cause an aching in my heart.

But mostly a gratitude for that teachable moment of quiet.

                              Once upon a time........

I am a firm believer that some of the best stories ever written began with "once upon a time".

Instantly, with those four words we become aware that we are going to a place removed from the place we are.

Add to that the beauty of illustration to be our guide along the way and we are captivated.

One can see it on every face, young and old alike.
I have yet to hear anyone begin a "yarn" or tell a tale that every ear does not perk up and eye focus intently on the storyteller.

But not every tale needs telling.

The reason.......perhaps, that the stories of the likes of Tasha Tudor, Beatrix Potter, Molly Brett, Racey Helps, and so many others endure goes beyond the beautiful illustrations. Even the Brothers Grimm with their tales that could; at times, be quite frightening help to remind us that there is a nobility even in the small things.

If I may quote from Winnie The Pooh by A A Milne:"Promise me you'll always remember; your braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." said Christopher Robin to Pooh.

All of this to a little stuffed bear.

I hope that the following tales are worthy to be told.  T H