Slow Down and Enjoy Life

My 85 year old mom loves to shell peas.

I enjoy it, too, but, see it as I see most tasks – something to finish so I can move on to the next item on my to-do list.

The garden yielded an amazing amount in the days following the heavy rains we received.  It seemed something needed to be picked every day as I scanned briefly for squash and okra, tomatoes and cucumbers.

The pink-eye purple hull peas were hanging heavy and turning a deep shade of purple – ripe for the picking.  Mom inquired of me, “When do you think we should pick peas?”

My reply was, “Whenever you want.”

Nothing else was said about it, so I headed into the garden to peek under leaves and pull aside plants as I searched for overlooked produce. It was like hunting Easter eggs.

As I stood in the middle of the garden with knife in hand and bucket at my feet, I heard Mom say, “I think it’s not a good idea for me to be in the garden picking peas.”

I looked up to find Mom tottering in the midst of the peas, her hands full of purple pods.

Quickly extricating myself from the squash plants and stepping between the okra, I dashed down a row, into the yard and around the garden to where Mom was standing waist deep in peas.

She said, “I didn’t give it much thought before stepping into the garden. But, once in the peas i realized it wasn’t a good idea to try moving around…I’m too unsteady on my feet as it is….”

Mom looked like she was 20 years younger.  Her hands were full of purple pods. Her cheeks were rosy. Her face was smiling.

I offered her the bucket and she placed her gathered peas into it.  The, I offered her a hand, which she took, and I pulled her from the garden.

As she stood on level, firmer ground, she picked up the bucket and pointed to the remaining purple pods.

“Today’s a good day to pick them,” she explained.  I nodded in agreement.

“I thought I could, but once in amongst them I realized it wasn’t a good idea…didn’t want to get my feet tangled and fall,” she continued.  Again, I nodded in agreement.

“Makes more sense for me to pick them and for you to hold the bucket,” I said.  She nodded in agreement.

Picking peas is back breaking work.  But, within 10 minutes we had our purple pods picked and our bucket full.

I watched her as she walked down the hill to the patio where she showed Daughter her harvest and settled at the picnic table to begin shelling them.

She called back over her shoulder, “I checked the cucumber vines and didn’t see any cucumbers.”

I squatted low and looked into the elevated vines.  There, among the vines and leaves hung not 1, but 18 cucumbers – all ready to be picked.  And, all 3 to 7 inches long.  WOW.

All told that day the garden yielded 2 yellow goose-neck squash, one zucchini squash, three ripe tomatoes (and 4 more showing color), 18 cucumbers, a bucket of peas, and half a bucket of okra.

As we sat at the picnic table, the peas scattered before us, Daughter said, “You know…next year we should make the garden larger!”

“WE??” I exclaimed.

Mom laughed.

Daughter said, “Well, I was just thinking that if it was twice the size it is now…think how many more peas we could have picked!”

Again I said, “WE??”

Without slowing down, I began to shell peas, quickly stripping the pods and plunking the peas into the bowl before me.  Daughter had a bowl and a pile of pods.  Mom had a bowl and pile of pods as well.  Mom appeared lost in thought, totally absorbed in her task. Daughter chatted merrily as she “peeled” the peas. (Her term, not mine.)

My thought was singular – get it done.

And, I did get it done.  Quickly.

Mom looked around and said, “We’re finished?  Already?”

“Yes!” I beamed.  “I work fast.”

“Oh, well…when I shell peas I enjoy it and like to take my time.  Are there really no more to shell?” Mom asked.

Daughter and I looked through the discarded hulls and I shook my head.

“Ah, well, maybe there will be more peas to pick in a few days,” Mom said.

Back into the garden I headed where I gleaned the peas for what I had missed.  I came up with two hands full of purple pods.  These I didn’t shell.

These I placed them before Mom and then sat across from her.  Her smile was huge – a real smile that came from deep within. She spoke as she shelled.  “I like to shell peas – always have.  Reminds me of good times – as a kid, with your dad, with grandchildren…I like to go slow and enjoy it.”

I learned an important lesson – about Mom and about myself.  Sometimes the joy of a job well done is found in the doing of it – not the completion of it.  I need to slow down and smell the roses I’m trimming…enjoy the scent of the peas I’m shelling….

The smile on Mom’s face as she shelled those peas will forever remain with me.  And, so will the lesson she taught me.

First Fruits

For several days, I watched fruit grow under the huge leaves of the zucchini plants in the garden.  Recent rains and summer weather had worked its magic and all I had to do was wait.

I’m not a patient person.

Waiting is hard for me.

But I did wait.  And, my waiting was rewarded.

When I waded into the waist high garden, I did so with determination and with focus.  Somewhere under the huge leaves hid treasures and I would have them.

Yes, I would – fresh…raw…on my salad…YUM!

The first plant yielded nothing but huge yellow flowers.  That’s okay, there were 11 more to look under.

With a shout of victory, I held a green zucchini high and silently thanked the Grower of them.

Down the row I went, pulling aside the itchy leaves, reaching between the prickly stems, carefully slicing the fruit from the stalk.

At the row’s end, I counted 3 yellow gooseneck and 5 zucchini squash gathered!

I was exuberant!

And, I was humbled.

These first fruits seemed holy.  I had not grown them.  Sure, I had prepared the bed and planted the seeds.  But, I wasn’t the one who instructed the seed on what to do and how.  I wasn’t the one who gave it life and empowered it to transform water and sunlight into life-giving fruit.

As I held the first fruits in my hand, I felt I should drop to my knees and worship the One who had.

What does one do with first fruits?

I decided to share half and keep the other half for my use.

As I reverently washed the squash and tenderly sliced it, I was thankful for the gift from the Grower.  And, as I placed the first bite in my mouth, I offered, “thanks again” before munching and crunching its goodness.

Gardening is, for me, a spiritual experience.

Before I could even leave the garden, I glanced at the knee-high okra and wished for a few tender pods to grill. Immediately, a passage in the Bible came to mind that warns of discontent and of desiring things we don’t have. Here I was, arms filled with blessings and my heart craved something else.

Contentment comes when we focus on the blessings we have and refuse to dwell on what we don’t have…wish we had…think we should have.

Zucchini

Mom’s garden is doing well.  Rain has come at the right time, in time, on time and everything is looking great.

The only things that are blooming so far are tomatoes, squash and cucumbers. Behind and under the leaves fruit matures and I am eager to sample it.

Each day I check under the huge Zucchini leaves to see if the fruit is growing and each day it seems the leaves have grown more than the pollinated fruit.

I asked Mom about the huge squash plants and if it;s normal for the leaves to grow faster than the fruit.  She said Zucchini will take over the garden…it grows huge.  And, once it starts producing we will have a difficult time using it all…we will have to give some away.

Looking under the leaves for squash is a little like an Easter Egg Hunt.  The dark green squash can be hard to find in the shadow of the big leaves.  I know from past experience that it’s possible to overlook it until it suddenly appears – a foot long Zucchini with an 8 inch girth.

To look at the squash plants, one would think they are producing like crazy.  But, looks can be deceiving.  What appears on the outside can be totally unlike what’s going on underneath.

There’s a Bible verse that says: People look on the outward appearance but God sees the heart.

Each time I look at the garden, the Zucchini remind me of that verse.  When standing back and looking at the garden, I’m amazed by the health and beauty of the plants.  But, when I make the effort to see what lies beneath I find: appearance can be deceiving – and disappointing.

Oh, I know…this is Zucchini’s nature.

But, it’s also my nature – and your nature – to look at things…at people, too…and quickly assume how things are within.  And, upon that assumption we base so much – how we react, the worth and value we attach to it/them, what we think, how we act, what we do, whether we engage or turn away….

Take the time to lift the leaves and look underneath what appears on the surface.  You may be surprised by what you find…

…in yourself.