Giving Thanks for the Garden

There’s something about the activity of gardening that puts life into perspective. No matter what the spiritual persuasion of the gardener might be, my guess is that few can garden without occasionally pausing to rest against a hoe or shovel and simply contemplate the good life. The act of gardening offers much to be thankful for: fresh vegetables, beautiful flowers, delightful scents, pleasant exercise.

But sometimes gardeners remember to be thankful in the garden without feeling any thankfulness for the garden. Yet, sometimes when I think of all the good my garden has done for me, I wonder why more troubled people are not taking up the hobby.

Many gardeners can tell tales of grief, poor health, anxiety or insecurities overcome through toil and sweat in the garden. One of my favorite stories along these lines was often told by the late Penny McHenry, founder of the American Hydrangea Society (http://www.americanhydrangeasociety.com/). (The beautiful hydrangea macrophylla Penny Mac is named for her.)

When Penny lost her daughter, the grief that followed nearly swamped every part of her life, leaving her depressed and without any interest in daily living. A friend, hoping to cheer her up, sent Penny a gift of potted hydrangeas. Somehow, out of the depths of her sorrow, the beauty of the first mopheads she ever really noticed got through to the grieving mother. Penny planted that hydrangea in her garden and from that small beginning was birthed a passion that would ultimately make her one of the most famous gardeners in Atlanta. Each year her hydrangea-filled garden was the highlight of the Hydrangea Society tour. Now there is even a festival named in Penny’s honor. (http://www.pennymchydrangeafestival.com/).

When my father died in 1992, it was working in my garden that gave me comfort. When health issues nearly sidelined me, it was my garden that keep me going. Some days my physical pain was so great that all I could do was lie in bed and look out the window. It was hard to focus on the garden and not on the weeds I could not deal with, but the garden did give me some small degree of satisfaction in my hours of pain and worry. Hours and hours of my time went into gazing into my garden and hoping for a better day, and eventually, that better day did come.

Recently, I read a book called Puppy Chow Is Better Than Prozac® (http://www.puppychowisbetterthanprozac.com/ ). The author, Bruce Goldstein found that his debilitating bipolar disorder was greatly improved by acquiring a dog for which he had to be responsible. Some days the dog was the only thing that got him out of the house.

Perhaps for some of us who dig in the dirt with great passion, there is a similar experience in gardening. It's hard to put off getting up and out when the business of the garden calls to us. It's equally hard to feel down and out when the flowers are flourishing. Don’t you agree that seeds and plants and digging in the dirt is some of the best medicine in the world?

Copyright 2009 by Edith Flowers Kilgo. All rights reserved. May not be used without prior permission and appropriate attribution, including the web address of this blog.