Once upon a time, there was a neglected garden ...
Okay-- if we are being completely honest, said garden was the recipient of organic plant killer. (Read: Organic --no chemicals involved. Plant Killer-- I have mentioned that I've been given that nickname? The last time I visited, I believe it was early June. Selective simplification prompted a decision to let the plants die a quick death.)
This garden lived in the middle of a lovely neighborhood full of lovely people.
Being lovely people, these neighbors have kindly mentioned that they didn't think that the little garden was dead. In fact, they threw out words like "pumpkins" and "stuff".
After a couple such approaches, the plant killer (aka me) was induced to visit the sad, little garden.
I was met by visions of marigolds peeking through my own personal field of weeds. Slogging through the abundance of weeds that were nearly as tall as I am and stepping gingerly across feet of pricker plants, I had sad visions of a few, measly, tennis ball sized pumpkins. It was a bit shocking to step around the last curtain of weeds to see large amounts of beautiful produce.
Reds, greens, oranges and yellows were all sheltered in a cooling mass of undesirable plants. Towering over my plot, like a hovering new mother guarding her children, stood a massive clump of sunflowers. In her shade, I found hidden treasures of zucchini, yellow squash, acorn squash, peppers, pumpkins, butternut squash, spaghetti squash, and some grape tomatoes.
After I had spent several minutes just trying to process out how much food there was still alive and edible, my children caught up with me.
As my daughter noticed the tomatoes (this girl might actually be able to live off nothing more than tomatoes; she likes them that much!) she turned her radiant face to mine and said, "Oh, Mom! I can't believe all of this. God has blessed us!"
This abundance of fresh beautiful goodness was certainly through limited fault of our own. True, I did plant the garden, but in spite of my conscious choice to ignore (let it die), a good neighbor or two-- who may or may not have watered occasionally-- and a loving Father in Heaven, brought forth things of beauty where I thought there were none. Truly, ours is the garden that God grew ...