Divine Intervention
When I was a child my mother used to pine and toil over her vegetable garden. Many weekends spent pulling the endless weeds and making kingdoms for them that inevitably were rejected by the vegetables.
For the longest time I thought tomatoes were supposed to be green and the size of a marble. I pondered how we were so lucky to get cucumbers already in pickle form. This perception was changed as I traveled with my family to friends and relative's houses only to see normal gardens, containing the vegetables I saw in grocery stores and TV. This truly confused me as to why our garden produced Alice in Wonderland sized vegetables.
Too my mistake I often asked my mother, "Why are your vegetables so small." Only to get the stare usually reserved for when I snuck a cookie or extra piece of bread at the Sunday diner.
One relatives Garden, which was always a magical place to visit, was my Uncle Henry's. He was a priest and had a huge vegetable garden he kept on the church grounds. Whenever we would visit I would spend hours in and around the garden and delight to help pick the fresh delights for the evenings dinner. The smells of his house were of fresh greens, and always and undertone of his favorite coffee freshly ground. I used to hear my Uncle giving my mother advice for her garden. He was a soft-spoken man and usually had a divine reference when explaining his plush offerings and endless growth.
My uncle would visit us from time to time and spent a week or two at our house. I noticed on one of these subsequent visits that my mother's garden started looking a little more respectable. Every time he would visit and then a few weeks after the tomatoes were a little brighter, and the cucumbers a little bigger. Only to quickly fizzle back the embarrassment we were used too.
As I grew older I noticed this strange occurrence more often and would anticipate his visits to mentally document this anomaly that kept happening. As other 12 year olds would get excited for a more practical things I would park a lawn chair by the garden during and after Henry's visits only to see more and more of the same. The garden would flourish with his mere presence. After many attempts my mother finally noticed the happening and started contemplating what was happening.
The one thing my Uncle always did was Pray every morning (before the rest of us were even awake) and read scripture to one of his freshly roasted cups of coffee. We would always know due to the aroma that filled the house. My family were not coffee drinkers so this smell was very noticeable and reminded me of when we visit Henry's house where the smell has taken over his house and seems to come form the walls.
We took the hint and started praying for the vegetable garden every morning. After this was a failure we tried doubling our efforts and praying every chance we had. It got so ridiculous our evening grace at dinner ending up being a blessing for the garden every night of the week. After a while the prayers fizzled and the dream of having a lush garden faded. We still kept the garden but were accepting to the fact that some gardens just wont grow.
As I continued getting older the excuses for the garden became more rational, climate, topography, indigenous animals, but the fact of the sudden spur in growth when Henry would visit still happened.
I caught myself checking on the garden after my Uncle would leave as I did when I was younger. I couldn't help seeing if the divine intervention was still occurring, and amazingly it was.
One morning when my Uncle was in town I had a big swim meet and had to be out of the house at 6:00Am. Far earlier that I imagined I had ever woken up before. I set three alarms and had my sister set hers. At 5:30 I felt a nudge, it was Henry waking me up as all 3 alarms we buzzing at the same time. I remember dreaming of being a conductor in a band and the sound coming from them wasn't exactly what I expected.
My Uncle helped me get ready and as we went down to the kitchen he offered me some of his coffee. I had never had coffee before but was so tired would try anything to get the mentally ready for the meet. He tamped the grind that had been already prepared and brewed a fresh cup.
What happened next not only changed my life but also made me the gardener I am today.
Henry proceeded outside toward my mother's droopy vegetable garden and dumped the coffee grounds over what looked a tomatoes plant. Henry saw my jaw on the floor and proceeded to explain he uses his coffee grounds in his garden every morning and it seems to help.
"HELP" I exclaimed! "We thought it was God's touch"
I went into the detailed account of his visits and the miracle's we could only attribute to prayer. He was very amused and that afternoon went to the store with my Mom to show her the coffee he bought and how to brew it.
Since that revelation my Mother's garden has been the best in the neighborhood and coffee grounds will be passed down for generations to come.