The Seed of Hope
Years ago, when I worked as a social worker at the Child Guidance Clinic of Winnipeg, I had the privilege of meeting many young children, teens, and their families. They were referred to me by school personnel for some behavior problems they were having.
There was one young teen that I remember in
Photo of Camelias by Diana Stevan
particular, because she wrote me a poem about our relationship. She called it The Seed of Hope. At the time, her family life was very troubled as her mother was mentally ill. Though exceptionally bright, my client had trouble coping and was suffering with depression. Through our work together, she found hope. In her poem, she referred to me as the gardener who had planted that seed of hope. I was honored by this gift and it reinforced in me, the idea that even the smallest offering of love and support can make a difference.
I was reminded of that again when I thought of what my cousin Nina had given during her life, and then just recently, how the the people of Boston reached out and gave their time and love to those in need.
Photo of Nelly Moser Clematis by Diana Stevan
Life is a garden. As we venture through it, we can prick ourselves on the thorns of anger and stumble on the weeds of despair. When that happens, any buds of beauty are choked in this untended garden.
Sometimes, these weeds are difficult to see. They may be rooted in our psyche, reinforced by not only others’ critical judgments but also our own. The expression, we are our own worst enemies, comes from this basic human flaw in all of us.
In our home gardens, we understand we have to take the time to clear them of plants that obstruct the growth of more desirable organisms. A garden of roses looks less beautiful when that first weed comes up.
Photo of Irises by Diana Stevan
Similarly, in life, we need to watch out for those thoughts and feelings that stand in our way of growth and harmony.
Spring is a great time to weed out all that stands in our way of living well.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on how gardens inspire you.
we do not have a garden at home but there is a park close by overlooking a river and whenever I need to clear my head out I go out there and sit for hours together! It really is soothing…
Am glad to hear that she called you her seed of Hope. I guess that is the greatest achievement one can ever get!
She actually called me the gardener who happened to come by and plant that seed of hope. It’s that connectiveness that we all have, the power to help someone in need, even with the smallest actions: a smile, a hello, a helping hand goes a long way. I’ve admired those who’ve made the great statements, like Martin Luther King, Ghandi, Nelson Mandela, so many others, who’ve used their words and their actions to promote love and charity. Anything I do is miniscule in comparison, but I try in my own small way to make a difference. Glad you have a park close by. Nothing like nature to soothe a tired or stressed mind.
My garden, working in my garden, keeps me grounded. It’s a healthy outlet.
I find gardening the best remedy when stuck in my writing. They say that digging is the best therapy for inmates of mental institutions. So I guess I’m in the right field. Working the soil helps me to, as you say: watch for feelings that stand in the way of growth and harmony.
Thanks for leaving such a great comment. When working in the garden, I sometimes start singing spontaneously. Some may see that as time to call the white men with their little jackets. I see it as bliss.
You know this has brought me so much insight into where I am right now. You have always been so remarkably intuitive about me, and when I think of where I am right now, and the fact that you have written this, and I have come along and read it gives me goose bumps. I miss you!! Xxoo
Carolyn, what a lovely surprise to read your comment this morning. Thank you for taking the time to leave your thoughts. I’m pleased you got something out of this post. The universe is so remarkable, and now with the internet, we are connected in ways unimaginable before. I miss you, too. xo
A meaningful analogy, Diana…thank you! 🙂
Thanks, Shari. Nature is chock full of stories.