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me, that it was normal, that some plants, don't turn out as well as others, and if I was patient, and continued to labour over my little garden, as I had been, I would have radishes, like the ones on the seed packet picture.

Time marched on, each day dragging a little closer to the day, I could harvest them, and see the fruits of my labours. I staved off boredom, by making small additions to the garden like a stone border,with spray painted silver stones, that gleamed to a blinding intensity in the sunlight.

The day finally arrived, when my grandmother took up the big white porcelain mixing bowl from the kitchen, and accompanied me into the yard. I would finally be able to harvest my radishes! The long wait was over! The first one, I pulled up, and again, it was a slightly larger corkscrew than the first one I'd pulled up weeks ago.

My face fell at seeing this, and the idea that my patch had yielded poor quality vegetables, disappointed. So much hard work, and attention for nothing. My first efforts, a complete failure.

The next radish I pulled up, was a small, but perfectly shaped radish. I felt my hopes restored. The next few, were also nicely rounded. Before long, I had a bowl full of fat tear shaped radishes. Even though several more were malformed, we had enough to enjoy for one meal, and only a short time later, I was learning to carve radish roses alongside my grandmother in our kitchen.

Every bit of effort and patience I had coaxed into that garden, was well worth tasting my very own radishes. My first garden, a happy success.

Learn more about this author, Elizabeth Clark.
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