Last night, Carter pulled the first radishes from the garden (which is really just two raised beds). We had the radishes in a dinner salad and Carter said they were the most delicious radishes ever.
I remember when he was little, and we planted our first garden together. Potatoes, carrots, onions–seeds and sets hidden deep in the rich brown soil. We’d water and wait, water and wait. And finally, when it was time, we uncovered potato after potato; onions and carrots too. As we worked, Carter’s face was full of astonishment and joy.
And it is astonishing, only sometimes I forget. Until a child reminds me to appreciate these ordinary acts of renewal, and faith. We’ve had four seasons of gardens since then, and this year I have new delight: watching Carter in the garden with his brothers, teaching them all the things he knows.