I love politics and social policy. A good debate invigorates me. I’ve earned Master’s degrees in Public Administration and International Studies. But, I have to admit that the political hatred that I am now faced with every day on TV and in public has me spending a lot of time whimpering to myself under a blanket in a dark quiet room. No matter if I think the issue is something that must be addressed immediately or something that is ridiculous, I am overwhelmed and exhausted with the incessant intensity emerging from the matter. However, there is one venture that Stewart and I fell into a few months ago that has unexpectedly given us hope for humanity.
THE GARDEN STOP
It started in the Spring. We decided to stick our hands in the earth for some garden therapy. Soon our overly successful seedling germination led to a need to thin out our little plants. We didn’t have the heart to toss those healthy plants we culled, so we transplanted them into 2-4 inch pots. This resulted in a dilemma of many more plants than garden space. We decided to set up a table at the end of our driveway, put the plants on the table and offer them to the community in the hopes of encouraging people to grow their food and/or learn about gardening. Times are hard, so we hoped that those who couldn’t afford the cost of a plant in a garden center would claim some of these little guys for their own. Stewart made a sign for our newly named “Garden Stop” that stated the plants were available for donation or free for those in need. The plants began to disappear and sometimes change or dollar bills appeared in the red Folger’s can we left on the table. We considered The Garden Stop a success, began germinating more seeds and put additional plants appropriate for the sowing period on the table. We put a bulletin board nearby with basic planting instructions for some of the more unusual plants and our email address for any questions.
When it came time to begin planting for a late fall harvest, we added a sign stating that if these plants were planted now, they would be ready for harvest in October. We were also able to put some early pumpkins and fresh herbs on the table. The fact that we were seeing stuff disappear made us feel that we were communicating with the community in a positive way, which was more than enough thanks for us.
But, then, other things began to happen. People began honking at us and waving as they went by. Thank you notes and cards appeared in our donation box. A neighbor left $20 in the Folger’s can and walked away without a plant, simply because he wanted to support what we were doing (this was considered a failure. We’re in the plant business, folks). An elderly couple knocked on our door asking if they could buy some of our home grown vegetables (We did not grow enough this season to provide for others… next year, maybe). A woman approached us, asking if she could donate a handful of plants to the Garden Stop, so we added her plants to the table and they disappeared into the wilds of Tennessee as well. On our way out last week, we noticed a small patio table and several beautiful large plastic pots filled with garden soil and gravel left near our “recycle your pots here” sign.
And yesterday a young woman knocked on the door. She said, “My Mother and I pass your Garden Stop every day. It makes us feel happy seeing your sign and the plants and we wanted to give something to you to show our appreciation.” She handed us a gift-wrapped pot of miniature roses as she gestured towards her car where a woman waved wildly with a broad smile (we assume this was “Mother”).
These intentional actions have gone far to remind me that although 2020 unearthed some of the worst of humanity, the best most caring of humanity is out there also. So my friends, fight the good fight, keep your head down, or stay home. Do what you must do to keep your sanity. And as we approach Tuesday, November 3rd, please please please remain vigilant and do what you can to protect your friends, family and yourself. No matter how the election lands after the dust has settled, “Fasten your seat belts– it’s going to be a bumpy night.”
