Of Life and Light

On Wednesday night I gathered my speedling tray, seed starting soil, and organic seeds. I went through my Square Foot Gardening book, planning out what I needed to get started now, before I can set them out in the very beautiful, very ready soil in the beds out back. This is always an act of faith, settling those teensy, tiny seeds just under a blanket of rich, black soil. In some squares I planted two seeds just to be sure.

On Saturday morning, much earlier than I expected, I walked by my tray in the dining room and squealed on the brakes. What? What is that! Why, it's baby lettuce! And baby broccoli! I started shouting for joy and calling everyone to come see. I even went and told the neighbors.

This morning, the baby cauliflower emerged, all six plants. How do they know? How do they have such intricate synchronicity?

They are sitting in front of a sunny window, and I noticed yesterday how they reach for the light, in wondrous testimony of Christ. As soon as we have been born, we too should reach for the Light, our source of Life. The plants just seem to know. They remind me.

Gardens are the best teachers.