by Sherry Denecker

Created on: November 28, 2009   Last Updated: December 03, 2009

My Mother was the gardener. I was just the driver. Every weekend she would have me haul bags of compost, potting soil and plants. I would make multiple trips to Home Depot and spend many a sunny afternoon digging holes for her many plants. I was the driver and hole digger. She was the gardener. That is why my job opportunity at an herb farm came as such a surprise to me.

I had gone to the Herb Farm shortly after she died. I am not exactly sure why I went, I suppose I just wanted to be someplace that she loved. As I walked through the many fields of plants I felt such a sense of peace. Almost as though she was still with me. It was then that I was approached by the elderly man in worn overalls.

He had snow white hair , a raspy voice and walked with a slight limp. A red bandana hung around his neck. He inquired as to weather I need any help picking out a plant. I guess I hesitated, not wanting to tell him the real reason I was there. It was then that he offered me a life changing job. Come and work at the Herb Farm. I looked him in the eye, not knowing what to say, then blurted out Do you know that chives are the only herb I can identify?

I don't know if I looked needy or pathetic, or if somehow my Mom had a hand in this opportunity, but he gave me the job. The atmosphere and the energy of the farm made it easy to learn about the plants and little by little I too grew. I now hold my Mom's green thumb close to my heart everyday and the plants appreciate it!

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