The paper
seed packet read, “Mesclun Mix” and pictured a leafy assortment of
lettuces. The seeds themselves were
miniscule, small balls the size of a pin’s head, little shards and spikes in a
variety of colors.
I shook them
loose into the ground, filling-in short lines where the buttery Boston Bib failed
to sprout.
I was
doubtful at best, pulling back the matted layers of dead grass that covered the
dense soil. This is our first year of gardening in this field that has grown grass, dense and soft like carpet, for years
now.
Using a
power-house tiller that belonged to my Grandfather, my husband turned the earth
two, three times over. But still, I had
to stand on the shovel and jump to dig holes for the small tomato and pepper
plants.
Crumbling
moist dirt gently around them I remembered my recent introduction to the
traditions of Celtic spirituality, how they had a blessing for nearly everything
– a blessing for lighting the fire in the morning, a blessing for washing one’s
face, a blessing for the planting of a garden.
I’m afraid we modern peoples have lost the practice of blessing.
We live in a
world hungry for and deprived of good words freely given. We gather, grab and cling to the good in our
lives, forgetting it takes an open hand to give, an open hand to receive.
I was
kneeling already, my knee poking through the rip in my jeans, chilled and
scraped by the dirt, so I said a blessing.
I prayed
that this small plot of earth would remember, be re-awakened to its potential
for growing more than grass. I prayed
for precarious beginnings and pictured the spidery webbed roots of each plant
merging with the darkness around it.
Come wind,
Come spirit,
Come sun and
rain,
Come bless this
place
and the life
that grows in it.
I laid my
hand upon the earth, the seeds, the plants and whispered goodness over them.
How long has
it been, dear friend, since you received a blessing? How long since you spoke goodness into your
own life, into another?
May you be
blessed.
May you be
re-awakened
to the
potential of your life,
the
potential of you.
May every
beginning you make
be a doorway
to life.
May you grow
deep roots
and open
hands so that you also
may bless
another.
This post is linked with #TellHisStory.
