A few years ago, we built raised beds in our backyard in an attempt to grow vegetables – ever the humbling process. This spring we had a mild April with lots of rain, which gave us lots of tomatoes. Many mornings I began my day by collecting the new tomatoes before our dog, Bailey, or the insects ate them, eating a few for breakfast and collecting the rest for later.
This season of tomato picking coincided with a season of personal challenge. There was a lot of stress in our family, and then my guests from long covid, fatigue and malaise, returned. That these two things were joined together – a fruitful garden and illness – created a rich paradox that fed me as much as those tiny red tomatoes. Those mornings with the tomato plants gave me more than physical nourishment. They gave me courage, and hope.
The Risk
Yesterday's despair
has melted into hope
the gift of two
bright new small
tomatoes.
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