In my new home environment (I recently moved) I have been creating a garden that extends beyond my patio-garden. My kind neighbor allowed me to use a neglected flower bed outside of his doorway (technically his garden) that was no more than stretch of dirt, when I moved in. I've been playing and potting plants, creating new blooms, and having an incredible amount of fun with it. Feeling my deceased grandmother's guiding hand, who always had green fingers and creative ones, I've been puttering and planting and enjoying the gardening process. Then one day, much to my disappointment, my patio gardenia plant found itself riddled with ants, in its soil—that I could not really do much about. So, I had the idea that lemon juice may be a deterrent and would encourage the ants to look elsewhere for their home. For several days, or perhaps it was two weeks, I squeezed lemons and fed their juice to the plant-soil, petals, and buds—that the ants seemed to particularly like. Well, the lemon juice was a temporary deterrent, sending them under the soil for a while, but certainly didn't solve my problem. Sat on my patio, daily, with the ant-ridden gardenia right in front of me, was too much to take so I moved it into the secondary garden, that my neighbor has allowed me. There my Gardenia sat, shaded beneath a staircase, to live out its days—ants and all. I figured, out of sight out of mind, so those pesky ants couldn't annoy me no more. Several weeks later, to my delightful surprise, the pips from the lemon-juice sprouted seedlings, eight of them in all. I blessed the ants for being the sand the helped to create this pearl of gardening joy, and set to, transplanting the seedlings into little pots. At my new home Tigger, my kitten, and I are frequently visited by our neighbors from the apartment-complex community, as our apartment looks out on the community park-area. We meet and greet them and their dogs, and Tigger takes delight in rubbling noses and giving these small dogs kisses. (She is such a flirt and love-bunny.) It seemed to me that the seedlings might be a nice little gift to our neighbors, and since I had eight seedlings, they needed to find a home. So one by one the seedlings where placed in my neighbors hands, who walked away with their inner-child's light shining through their excitement, thanks, and facial expressions of joy and wonderment, at having a little seedling to take care of. I realized in that moment the miracle of joy the plant, the ants, the seedlings, and most of all Spirit had created. I am sure there are many analogies and lessons that could be drawn from this, but for me it was simply the joy and love of Spirit coming into play in my own and other's lives. Lastly, the other day one of my neighbors mentioned her seedling did not make it, and had wilted away. I promised to take a cutting from my own seedling, when it has grown, so she might have another. The following morning as I went out to tend to my garden, two new seedlings had emerged. Its as if the plant, the lemon seeds—that have now been in the soil for about 2 months—and Spirit had decided to grant my neighbor's wish. It seemed to me to be yet another of Spirit's small miracles, that entice and surprise us in our lives. I still have some ants in my gardenia plant, but we have grown into mutual respect and peace. My plan is to "accidently" drop some orange seeds in my miracle-plant and see what emerges, then maybe I can send my neighbors off with another little seedling to take care of. So, that is my story, from a happy gardener......Morning Star. |
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Spiritual Philosophy
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