The row of violet leaves sitting in small, clear vases on my
mother’s kitchen windowsill were always fascinating to me. The fuzzy, velvety leaves sprouted thin white
roots and then when the roots looked strong enough, I’d help my mother put them
in clay pots. Within weeks, a new leaf would pop up, and a few months later, a
small violet plant would be vigorously growing and blooming. When my
grandmother gave me my first special leaf to start in a vase of water, I was delighted
to have my very own violet. It was one I’d admired for its showy double pink
blooms. I carefully nurtured the little violet for many months and was proud
when it was finally heavy with buds.
These memories, old and new inspired a 30-day devotional book entitled, Gardens of the Heart. Filled with beautiful nature photos, you’ll find daily encouragement for cultivating a heart of devotion and obedience to the Master Gardener. There are also flower and vegetable
growing tips that range from the down and dirty necessities to simple, effective
ideas that will help make your garden flourish. So roll up your sleeves and grab
your gloves, because it all begins with the soil in your backyard and, most
especially, in your heart!
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The
sharing of gardens both inside and out has been long family tradition. When I
was growing up, no visit to an aunt, grandmother, or cousin was ever complete
without a walk through a flower bed or admiring plant laden windowsills. Each
one had a unique garden and a favorite flower they grew in reckless abandon. One
had only to express appreciation for a particular flower and a spade quickly
appeared. A paper grocery bag or old cardboard box would soon be filled with
elegant delphiniums, sunny daisies, regal irises, or fragrant lilies of the
valley. On the way home, my mother would plan where the new flowers would fit into
her already chock-full gardens. Sometimes, my father found out he was digging a
new flower bed. She always found room for new and unique flower and when the
next visitor came to her gardens, Mother would fill a bag or box as well.
Vegetable gardens were also shared. There were always too many cucumbers or
zucchini squash. If someone’s tomatoes didn’t do well or if they admired the
remarkable crop of lettuces, another brown grocery bag was found and filled.
Even
today, we’re still sharing gardens.
Before I moved west several years ago, I invited my mother and sisters
to take houseplants and help themselves to thinning out my gardens which were
full of family heirlooms. Each plant told a story, from the 60 year old Christmas
cactus a great-aunt had entrusted to me, to the richly scented peonies from my
mother, and beautiful gold iris from my paternal grandmother. Although very
different personalities and life journeys make each woman unique, the common
thread is a love of beauty and the desire to share it with those they loved
most. Now I’ve started gardening all over again in a new home and new climate,
and my mother has sent me family flowers to stock my new gardens with
remembrances of my grandmother’s lush and extravagant flower gardens from the
1960s. They bring back childhood memories of sitting on my grandparents’ broad shady
porch soaking in the beauty of my grandmother’s color-saturated gardens. Her
gardens were so spectacular, folks stopped to take pictures on hot, humid July
afternoons.
Looking
back I see there was much more shared than just flowers and vegetables. These
women have been generous with their lives. Their gardens were a picture of their
hearts, not rich in earthly treasures, but rich with the things that really
mattered – love, patience, perseverance, and kindness. Their heart gardens have
proven fruitful over the years of raising children, sharing life with their
husbands, ministering in the Church, and passing down a legacy of faithfully serving
Christ in every situation of life. As the seasons of their lives continued to
change, they showed the same beauty even though some seasons are difficult—serious
illness, loss of a husband, financial difficulties, and death itself.
Gardens
require commitment, perseverance and a lot of time on your knees. Weeds, bad
weather, disease, and pests can destroy beautiful flowers in no time. My mother
taught me to weed and fertilize my gardens consistently to see good results. Gardens
of every sort are hard work, but the rewards are great for feeding the soul and
the body when they are well kept. Like
the beautiful flowers they still share, the women of my family continue to pass
down a precious heritage, one that displays the beauty of the Savior, the Rose
of Sharon.
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