Satisfaction

There are few things in life that are more satisfying than watching your child harvest produce from the garden that the two of you have tended together.

Today, #3 picked the last of our beets for this growing season. The beets which we planted back in the early spring, back when he wasn’t sure whether or not he would like beets. He helped me prepare the beds and then looked skeptically at the gnarled seeds I poured into his hand. He was unsure that anything worth eating could come from something which looked so completely unappetizing.

When the first seedlings began to poke through the ground, he learned to identify them by their bright red vein and ferociously attacked any weed which dared to grow in their beds. We spent many hours this spring watering and weeding and me listening as he told the story of his 7 year old life. As the plants soaked up the water, he soaked up the individual attention.

This is my quicksilver child, always wriggling, twisting, going. He dashes about us in a blur, until we go out to the garden. Outside in the sunlight with the earth and the plants, he slows down. His speedy body becomes still and quiet as he carefully tends his charges and tenderly moves the earthworms he uncovers to a safer place.

He looked so proud this morning as he hefted the baskets of beets and toted them into the kitchen for pickling. He was beaming at the literal fruits of his labors. “The tomatoes are next,” he announced with the practiced air of an experienced gardener. “They should be ripe enough in about a week.”

Slow and steady and sure of himself, already growing to the size of a man in his own mind. These are the fruits of my labors in the garden with my son. His may be tasty, but I’ll bet mine are sweeter.