It all starts with a tomato plant. A Paul Robeson Heirloom variety, to be specific.
This is my experiment.
My reminder that I am here to grow. That I can touch and taste and smell the fruits of my labor.
My plant could die due to some unforeseen event. It could be eaten by worms.
Or pooped upon by one of many territorial neighborhood cats (the skewers are intended to prevent it, but these cats are clever, and I’m not sure I’ve outwitted them).
Worse yet, I could kill it. Not out of malice, of course, but by my crackling dry leaf-like or over-watered yellow spotted thumb.
Unfortunately, that’s a more likely outcome than I would like to admit.
But either way, I will learn from it.
A prayer for my new transplant:
May the light of the sun raise you up, the earth hold you, and the water quench your thirst so that you are strong, flexible, and beautiful.
Maybe, it’s a prayer for me, too.
Eva Rubin, MPH/LCSW
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