The people I read of, visit with and admire the most are people who don’t mind getting their hands dirty. “From the earth we came and to the earth we shall return.” There is a primal connection between man and soil. Our food comes from the earth and if you stop to think of it so does almost everything else…..from it’s virgin origin, the soil provides life and products for all of us.

You would hardly expect an ex-president to become interested in gardening. Not only interested but to become a leader in horticulture……a master at growing a living canvas of color and beauty. Thomas Jefferson was master of many things but considered himself to be a learner when it came to gardening. “Though an old man I am young in gardening.” He spent his last years at Monticello tending his gardens and implementing new fruit trees and vegetables. I rather imagine he was a man who had dirt under his fingernails.

Barbara Bush was another who surprised their lawn crew at the White House. They had the freedom of the grounds except the rose garden. That was her turf and she wanted to care for the roses herself. I don’t wonder why……no matter what our “station” in life we are first individuals. Barbara and my mother had the “feel” of the good earth in their hands and carefully patted and watered each new plant.

Actually, if we think of it, we are much like the gardener and the garden. I was watering plants this morning and all summer I have been sad that our Japanese Maple died after a hard freeze when it was leafing out. I couldn’t imagine it dying for it had my undivided attention since planting. We had saved up for it and it was the creme de la creme of the berm we were planting out front. How could a freeze kill a tree? Well, apparently easy in Missouri.

Each time I watered, it got the same love and attention it always had. I knew it was wasted but somehow I couldn’t pass it by without water. A few days ago as I was pulling weeds away from the tree to my utter amazement there were shoots coming up from the root. It would be impossible for me to tell what that did for me. The tree Rocky and I planted was alive. Alive and growing around the dead skeleton of it’s former self. The dead branches were holding up the tender little shoots and sheltering them from harm.

God speaks to us so many ways in a garden. Where once I could bounce down on my knees to weed, water, plant or whatever……now it is a labor of love to care for them. This has been a year of changes for me and at times it seems I will never “catch up”…….but the maple tree has taught me that in due time there will be a new beginning once more and the ones in my life that were so dear will hold me up as I prepare to live again………………

Until tomorrow, I am,
Essentially Esther