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deep green frothy foliage. Radishes. I knew my mother and grandmother both adored them, so I had finally made my choice. I would grow radishes, not to make my first million, but to be able to give my mother and grandmother something they both really enjoyed.

My grandmother looked about ready to protest again, perhaps, hoping to urge me into growing something simpler, but this time, I was not to be dissuaded. So, we took up the package of my choice, paid for it, and took it home. My grandmother told me, that if I was to grow radishes, I needed a nice rich, well drained soil. She brought over a half bag of cow manure, and emptied it into my garden bed, my first job, to enrich the soil with it, working it in well, and picking out any stones I found. She told me, I had to dig it in quite deeply, as radishes were root vegetables, and needed lots of space to grow downwards.

Now that I had enriched the soil, and picked out most of the stones, I was excited, I could finally plant my radishes. I read the instruction packet over and over. I wanted to get every detail correct. I planted the radish seeds, small pinches, each a few inches apart, and covered the seeds over lightly with a thin layer of soil. I tamped the soil down, and stared proudly at my patch. Once I was relatively sure, the seeds weren't going to pop up instantly into plants, just because I wanted them too, I went inside and made little signs, out of the radish package. There would be no doubting, that there would be radishes in that patch!

Each day, I went out and sat by my patch, watering it, and diligently watching the progress of my seeds. About a week passed, before I started to see little green sprouts, growing in lines! My seeds, were now tiny plants. Each week, they seemed to grow in leaps and bounds, until my patch was covered with the same frothy green leaves, that were on the photograph of my seed package.

Some time passed, before my curiosity, had gotten the better of me. I glanced around furtively, before sneaking up one of the radishes, to see how their roots were doing. The one I tugged up, looked more like a corkscrew with it's odd thin twists, than the nice rounded orb on the package.

Dejected, I went inside and produced the corkscrew radish to my grandmother. She seemed surprised, that I'd waited as long as I had, before uprooting them to see how they were doing. She took up the little radish and looked to me, with that look that said: I needed to learn patience in a big way.

She told

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