Posted by on Jan 1, 2012 in Photographs, Sacred Foods | 0 comments

The Dominican Sisters of Houston, Texas tend a community garden on their property. These dedicated women, who have devoted their lives to God, enjoy the feel of rich soil as it slips through their fingers. Each time they move the hoe to till the soil, or remove the weeds interfering with the growth of their organic vegetables, they are in touch with the Creator of this Earth. They take great pleasure in tending their garden and moving with the rhythm of nature as the hidden seeds sprout, flower and become vegetables. The true reward of their labor comes when, with joy-filled hearts, they deliver the fresh home grown vegetables to the local food bank for those for whom fresh food is a luxury

 

~Cathy Chapman~

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I lovingly sow tiny, flat seeds into the warm soil collected earlier in an old egg crate and then visit the window sill each morning to coo and coax them to the light. With each call, I expect to see pale green poking through the blanket of brown. And soon my wish is granted, the great unfurling begins. Half-inch seedlings suddenly seem mighty and prideful giants. As I witness the daily growth of green shoots, my own pride grows.

As expected, she sprouts her first set of leaves and as she does her work, I do mine. She reaches far and wide, stretching her glorious limbs. I hang the laundry as I bless the sunshine that lingers longer each day, every afternoon refusing to dip behind the trees until it is good and ready. My annual crop of summertime joy grows and lingers, staying in my heart full force until the shadows under the kitchen table reminds me another day is done.

I coo again to the now four-inch beauties as I lug them to the porch for their first breath of fresh spring air. I fill my lungs to capacity and we share the moment, ‘Brandwine’ and me.

A good soldier, she stands tall in the row, her full limbs heavy with clusters of pink baseball-sized fruit. I stop and stare again. It’s my third trip to the garden this day. Before I turn to leave, she whispers “It won’t be long now.” I smile.  My heart beats rapidly as I anticipate an explosion of seeds and juice. The true flavor of summer is bold and acidic. It pinches the place between jaw and ear, reminding me to find that bruchetta recipe.

~Tam Veilleux~

 

 

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