Victory Garden: a Lesson in the Endurance of Suffering
Victory Garden continues to be in my attention and care, but there has been little to update over the past few wintry months. This region that borders the northern Hill Country of Texas (known for its glorious fields of blue bonnets and Indian paintbrush, among other wild flowers) and on the southern edge of "Northern Texas", basically that which is near Interstate 20, has faced a much prolonged and harsh winter compared to average.
For those of you not familiar with Victory Garden, it would be worth your while to look in the archives to late summer 2009 to the first post, Victory Garden: Overcoming Disability, and the few subsequent articles.
My last note to you was in October, when I was planting broccoli, hoping to have some produce before the first freeze. Our first hard frosts are often in December. Following this hope, I planted three small broccoli plants in the rusty old stock tank, which had composted and decayed to a level 6-8 inches below the top rim of the 30 inch tall tank.
About 2 weeks after transplanting, we had our first frost, but on inspecting the plants, they were either tolerant of this temperature, far enough above ground, sheltered by the edges of the tank (which were taller than the young plants), or perhaps still enjoying some heat of the remaining composting process two feet beneath them. At any rate, I continued to watch, and freeze after freeze fell upon the young plants. Three times they were completely covered by snows of up to 6 inches, which I left in place. Several nights dipped into the 'teens. Few days reached above the mid-40's before mid-March.
For nearly five months, these three plants weathered every storm and every freeze that blasted down upon them. Many times I crept out to the tank expecting death against such adversity, only to find that though the plants had not emerged above their 8 inch metal hedge, they were growing and becoming bushy.
Last week, I considered the work of removing the top soil, and the new compost, and starting over. The plants looked small enough to plant without difficulty, but a look at the roots, the "unseen plant" was in order before such a decision was made or work begun. I was shocked that as I dug down, the root structure of these relatively dwarfed plants reached all the way to the bottom of the tank. A look at the stem revealed it to be over 5/8 inches in diameter.
I am reminded of the quote by Oscar Wilde, "To have become a deeper man is the privilige of those who have suffered."
People are a lot like that. Some face adversity, and expecting little, we are surprised to find them around a few weeks into the difficulty. Even after having realized that the plants had somehow outreached all expectation, I dug down to look at the roots and was even more surprised. While the tops were not "all that impressive", the roots had grown deeply, and no doubt contributed to the plants' overall abilities to survive the oppressive winter.
Sometime we look at a person and judge their spiritual growth, and may see very little "on top", but a strength unseen, below what is normally judged, is flourishing. The most spiritual, the most knowledgeable of Child of God's grace may appear to be rather simple, rag-tag, quiet and unobtrusively person, sitting on the back of the worship hall, but their roots grow deep.
Jesus taught us that the vine must be trimmed that the vine may bring forth much fruit. Much of this pruning proliferates the roots, which the nourishment of the latter harvest.
After a hard winter, and only one week of sunshine, Kathy and I will eat our first Victory Garden broccoli this week. We are already planning the new, larger tank. I think I might just leave this broccoli bed undisturbed this time.
Just Thinking, The Sand Hill Philosopher
