“Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help. Gardening is an instrument of grace.” – May Sarton
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People ask me why I spend so much time gardening. My tongue-in-cheek answer usually is, “Therapy is expensive and gardening is cheap.” I feel at peace and at home outside in the dirt. Maybe it is because I come from such a long line of farmers. My mother grew up with five 
other siblings on a farm right outside of Yuma, Arizona. Likewise, my father and his nine siblings grew up in the farmlands of Uniontown, Pennsylvania. We never lived anywhere where there wasn’t something growing in the backyard. I continued the tradition, and no matter how small the apartment or house, I have had something growing somewhere. Whether it was tomatoes on the window sills or large, above ground beds in the back yard, something is growing near me.
I do my best to share this love with others. I volunteer with Mesa Public Scho
ols and provide a garden for inner city children, most of whom have no idea that food doesn’t come from the store. I teach gardening classes with the kids in kindergarten, fifth grade, sixth grade, and special needs autism classes. Also, I spent time on a sabbatical in rural Ghana working on a sustainable farm teaching the locals that they could grow food for themselves.
I feel God’s 
presence in the garden. Whether it comes from the miracle of creation, the retreat from the hectic calls of the day, or the sense of metaphor for our lives because nothing grows without a little cow poo-poo, I know that God is real when I see the beauty and feel the dirt.
