My Father’s Garden

Every summer for as long as I can remember, my father kept a large garden. Even after my brother, four sisters and I left home, he continued to maintain a smaller plot in the back yard. He loved the thrill of cultivating the earth and growing vegetables. He took special pride in his six-foot staked tomato plants.

When the produce was ripe and superfluous for a household of two, he put the extra vegetables on a little table in the driveway.  From his perch on the front porch which he loved, he invited neighbours walking past to help themselves to the bounty.  Besides taking fresh produce to their homes, friendships blossomed between Dad and the neighbours for many blocks.

When Dad was no longer able to manage the garden, a man across the street, witnessing Dad’s outreach, offered to prepare the soil and do most of the planting.  Thus, Dad’s work of friendship and generosity continued.

Dad loved people and gardening. His fine garden was a vehicle to express his generosity and to help create a community of caring people. This was love in action. When you think of your own neighbourhood, where do you see kind acts of love?

Yvonne Parent CSJ