A Moral Garden
“The principal value of a private garden is not understood. It is not to give the possessor vegetables or fruit (that can be better and cheaper done by the market-gardeners), but to teach him patience and philosophy and the higher virtues, hope deferred and expectations blighted, leading directly to resignation and sometimes to alienation. The garden thus becomes a moral agent, a test of character, as it was in the beginning. I shall keep this central truth in mind in these articles. I mean to have a moral garden, if it is not a productive one,—one that shall teach, O my brothers! O my sisters! the great lessons of life.”
After many years of gardening through the seasons in southern California, I can attest to one thing: you reap what you sow in gardening and motherhood. The labor of a gardener is not so simple, and neither are the duties of a mother. Interestingly, the more knowledge I’ve gained through growing our food, the more I’ve witnessed the parallels in raising children. The garden secretly holds such valuable wisdom through the labor of our hands. From seed to harvest, one of many moral virtues it teaches us is patience— how to wait with gratitude and to intentionally slow down as we wait for the fruit to ripen. It also teaches us that neglect in the garden can result in a poor harvest.
The more attentive I am to how our plants grow— Does the soil need more nitrogen? Is this specific plant getting too much sunlight or too much water? Do I need to move this plant to a bigger pot?— the healthier our garden grows. I remember one year during the heat of Summer, one of our zucchini plants succumbed to powdery mildew— also known as blight—on its leaves. After a few weeks of avoiding the problem, I looked from the bedroom window and saw the disease spread from one plant to the other, including our beautiful cosmos and morning glory vine along our fence. Not only did I become even more discouraged, but I also gave up on our garden throughout the summer. Neglect led to more damage than I anticipated and more work in the long run; it was a moral lesson to me that the same goes for what happens within the walls of our homes, minds, bodies, and hearts.
“Do not despise these small beginnings,for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.”
These pictures show our flourishing 2020 spring garden in our Clairemont home in San Diego. I had learned my lesson as a gardener. We had a bountiful harvest that year and a healthy homeschool that reaped the benefits of having a daily routine and aiming for small victories through small beginnings. Whether it was reading a chapter a day or fixing a bad habit, I believe we overcame so much just by caring enough for what we love.
SPRING/SUMMER 2020 NOTES
MARCH — spring seeds
Vegetables: Chinese Cabbage, Radishes, Beets, Zucchini, Cherry Tomatoes, Spinach, Swiss Chard, Carrots, Green Onions, Sugar Peas, and Peas.
Herbs: Chives, Cilantro, Basil, Dill
Flowers: French Marigolds, Benjamin Buttons, Zinnias, Assylum, Cosmos, and Hollyhock.
Results: The only seeds that did not germinate were the Chives.
JULY — summer seeds
Vegetables: Cucumbers, Okra, Pumpkin, Rainbow Chard, a variety of tomatoes, and more Zucchini.
Flowers: Sunflower, Morning Glory
Results: The summer heat killed the Zinnias and Benjamin Buttons, so we decided to grow more Zinnias and plant them in a partial sunny area. We also planted a dozen Sunflower seeds, but only 4 plants survived. A pest (squirrel or rat) would munch the head of the seedlings once they grew to about 3”.
AUGUST — late summer
I took a break from tending to the garden because I needed to prepare for our school year, which began on August 17th. Ripe vegetables would be harvested, plants were watered daily or every other day because I just didn't have the time, my husband managed our compost; and once a week, I would prune the plants, the girls would dead-head the flowers, and we'd spend a minimal amount of time pulling weeds. Caterpillars are getting the most of our greens, but at least it's a sign that our potager is thriving with life!
SEPTEMBER — almost fall
The days have been too hot to start planting anything right now, so we continue to water and harvest what remains.
