10 | March• 2018
MY STORY
feelsurprisedtofindtheworkwas
lighterfortheirhelp,andtheir
laughter made time pass faster. So I
stopped resenting their intrusions
andinsteadIbeganto share my
gardening secrets.
“Beetroot and
spinacharehardy,”I
told them. “They don’t
need babying. When
afrostiscoming,we
have to cover up the
beans. Ladybirds are the
good guys.” As spring
became summer and
therealworkbegan,I
expectedthechildrento
disappear, but no, there
they were, watering, pulling weeds
andcheckingforinsects.
OnedayIsnuckoutbymyselfto
thegarden,feelingalittlebitguilty.
Ihadasuspicionthesugarsnappeas
wereripe,andIwantedataste.AsI
grazedalongtherow,alittlevoice
pipedupbehindme. “Whatcha
eatin’, Mama?”
Abby’sbigblueeyessparkledasI
showed her how to pull the strings off
andpopthepeasintohermouth.She
just loved how tasty they were. Then
my sweet seven-year-old girl put me
to shame. “Mama, I’ve got to pick a
bunch. Won’t the others
lovethem?Ican’twait
to share.”
Irealisedhowselfish
Ihadbeen.I’dtried
tokeepthejoysof
gardening to myself,
andherewasachild
who couldn’t wait to
sharewithherbrothers
and sisters. I blinked
back tears and said,
“Sure, honey, let’s pick some and I’ll
show you how to prepare them. We’ll
makethemostwonderfulsupper.”
NowIshareallofthegarden’s
beauties with the children. We bring
the fruits of our labour back home,
preparing and cooking the produce
together, because we know that
everything is better when shared.Irealisedhow
selfish I’d been.
I’d tried to
keep the joys
of gardening
to myselfALL DRESSED UPSeven Roman Catholic priests were refused service in a Welsh
pub after staff mistook them for a stag party in fancy dress. After
realising a mistake had been made, Cardiff’s City Arms offered
the clergymen a round of free drinks to apologise. Arriving at
the pub to celebrate the ordination of Father Peter McLaren, the
priests were told by a bartender that the City Arms did not serve
large groups in fancy dress.REUTERS