Story of the Day
"Prayer
of a Gardening Mother"
Dear
God, give me the strength to grow a garden.
Give me the
perseverance to find a portion of dirt in my backyard that's free from old
popsicle sticks and sand toys, out of range of the swing set, and not used as a
tricycle parking lot or a soccer field.
Give me the courage
to face the fact that the crate of bulbs that took six weeks to be delivered and
three hours of backbreaking labor to plant, can be dug up in five minutes by a
two-year-old with a spoon.
Guide me through
the backyard over plastic toys, irrigation systems and wire mesh to unravel the
dog from the watering hose for the fifteenth time.
Help me to accept
that everything in my garden is either expensive, high maintenance or
unpronounceable, and the only thing that looks the same as it did in the
mail-order catalog is the dirt.
Grant me patience
when my daughter waters all of the bulbs with apple juice because "they
look thirsty."
Give me the
strength to remain silent when my husband puts pans of beer throughout the
garden to get rid of the snails.
In your infinite
wisdom, show me how to turn off the drip irrigation system that has been on
since sometime in mid-March.
Grant me serenity
when my son presents me with a bouquet of freshly pulled daffodils crammed into
an old plastic sand bucket – and the ability to smile when he tries to put
them back.
Comfort me when all
of the beer pans in the garden are empty – and the dog is staggering around
the backyard trying to do the limbo with the low branches on the apple tree.
And if I ask too
much, God, just give me the foresight to know that, no matter what I do, by the
end of summer the flowers will be run over by plastic roller skates, the
gardening stakes will be used for goal posts, and the fertile soil will, once
again, be filled with old popsicle sticks and sand toys – and I wouldn't have
it any other way.