“The garden is ruint with all this rain. I will try to plant a late crop when it dries up. Sharon and I were planning to preserve what we will use and give the rest of it away – now we won’t have much to give to our neighbors and friends. Oh, I am the worst at complaining about the weather. We can’t complain. It’s in God’s hands and God knows best. Maybe the garden will do better than I think it will.”
A smile returns to Eva’s face showcasing her pearly white top dentures, which she will slip in and out the pocket of her mossy green pant suit multiple times throughout the afternoon. As always, Eva’s outfit is perfectly fitting for the day.
A few weeks prior, my co-worker and I got together with Eva and another participant named Jan. It so happened that they both needed to go to doctor appointments on the same day. Usually my co-worker and I would only be able to take one, but these participants lived near each other and both needed to go to in the same direction, so it worked out that we could take them together.
In little time, it was clear that their encounter was predestined. When Eva and Jan got to talking about their family trees (as Appalachians almost always do upon meeting someone), they discovered many connections to friends and family members long since passed. The most meaningful connection to Jan was Eva’s sister Pearl. The two had gone to church together for years. Jan described her as a beautiful person and a good friend. When she says this, I just nod and reflect on how I have used the very same words to describe Eva.
We sit on Jan’s porch visiting with each other. As we look out onto a cow pasture and hay field, we journey into the past. The memories bring a glimmer to Jan’s downcast eyes. Eva pulls a picture of her family out of her wallet and gives it to Jan. Her eyes nearly fill with tears. Tears reflecting joy and gratitude for the kind gesture and for the friendship that was and the friendship that will be.
At the volunteer house, my housemate and I examine our gardens. Atop the hill, the thick green potato leaves fan out in rows between sweltering tomato plants and stunted corn stalks. The bean vines begin to twist up the fence closing off the garden. The cabbage, carrots, parsley, sage, and lettuce are looking good down near the house. We decide that the sun has peaked through the clouds just long enough for us to do a little more planting. He hoes the rows and I gently dropped the cauliflower and broccoli seeds one at a time into the fertile soil. We sprinkle in some radishes before raking and packing the ground over the seeds.
We step back to admire the work and I can barely keep from laughing in bewilderment. Before coming to serve in Kentucky, I had never grown a garden. Yet here I was amongst vegetable seeds and sprouts of all shorts. Eva’s words reverberate in my mind, “It’s in God’s hands.” How right she is. I plant the seeds that were given to me. I pull out the weeds that grow up among them. I follow instructions and trust that the harvest will come.
“What, after all, is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe—as the Lord has assigned to each his task. I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The one who plants and the one who waters have one purpose, and they will each be rewarded according to their own labor. For we are co-workers in God’s service; you are God’s field, God’s building.” -1 Corinthians 3:5-9 (NIV)
Debbie is a 2nd year volunteer serving as an Elderly Services caseworker and living in the Jackson Volunteer Community. Opinions expressed in volunteer blogs are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of CAP or the Volunteer Program.
