Sowing Hope

 

To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.

Audrey Hepburn

The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.

Chinese Proverb

Where flowers bloom, so does hope.

Lady Bird Johnson

I have been worrying recently that this blog is turning into an obituary page. On the one hand, I feel moved to memorialize those dear friends I have lost. On the other hand, I feel the need to remind myself that my life now is full of things worth honoring, too.  Last week just such an event crystalized that memory.

I have been helping Wonder Connection renovate a courtyard garden at the UNC Neurosciences Hospital in Chapel Hill. This organization works with hospitalized kids and teens through hands-on science activities, and they planned to use this garden with psych patients from the children's ward.

The space had been planted many years ago. It had some lovely older specimen trees, but was greatly in need of cleaning out, limbing up, coloring in. The project was funded by a generous grant for new plants, soil rejuvenation, tree work, and mulch. Much of the cleanout muscle work was staff or volunteer driven. But the vision of the new garden was provided by the patients themselves as they explored what a garden should be, what feelings a garden invokes, and even what specific kinds of plants might generate specific feelings.

My contribution was to take all the kid suggestions and to make a coherent design that would honor their thoughts while also fitting specific plants to the garden conditions. There were shade areas as well as sunny spots. There were areas that could use a little privacy, and ones that might be a quick glimpse at a happy spot for staff and patients alike. 

Put yourself in that place for a second. What is a garden to you? What do you think about when you imagine a garden? You'll probably come up with many of the ideas and feelings these troubled kids did- calmness, excitement, kind grandmothers, peacefulness, comfort, happiness. Even before they saw the finished product, they could see the benefits of creating such a space. 

Wonder Connection did not stop there. Over the course of several months, they had the kids plant all the plants that they had envisioned. The kids were supplied with trowels and gloves and sometimes even shoes so they could get out into the newly cleared out space and make that garden appear before their eyes. Many kids had never planted anything. Most needed to learn about roots and shoots and leaves and flowers; about sunlight and water; about color and texture. This garden has a little bit of everything: tall plants, grassy soft plants, groundcovers, colorful flowers, colorful foliage, herbs, aromatics, ornamental bark, berries, and lots and lots of seasonal change. The kids will also plant seeds and watch them grow, learn what they need, and what their various parts do. 

In addition, a couple of kids suggested the idea of a labyrinth as a garden quality. So besides the flagstone path from one door around to the other, Wonder Connection staff mulched winding paths through the garden beds to give up close and also varied views of different parts of the plantings instead of just an overall outlook. Now the kids really can "hike",  explore, and roam (supervised) even while in a hospital setting. Using the instinctive curiosity and wonder of young minds, this garden project opens the doors to learning and healing.

Engagement in this project has been enormous. Kids that have never done this work jumped into it. Kids that had not wanted to participate inched into it. Kids that had not wanted to work at all with staff were willing to try watering, or even just sitting in the garden watching the rest. And the staff response has been no less enthusiastic. I have gotten so many comments about how the garden has made their patient interactions easier, and even their own breaks calmer.

So here I sit, writing and crying. This time, not from loss, but from the profound blessing I have witnessed. I am reminded over and over why I do this work. The gifts a garden can share are deep, heartfelt, immediate and long lasting. They function across all levels- age, culture, economic. They contain the most basic of life lessons. In a word, a garden is hope; something I think we could all use more of.

An Observation

True gardeners cannot bear a glove
Between the sure touch and the tender root,

Must let their hand grow knotted as they move

With a rough sensitivity about

Under the earth, between the rock and shoot,

Never to bruise or wound the hidden fruit.

And so I watched my mother's hands grow scarred,

She who could heal the wounded plant or friend

With the same vulnerable yet vigorous love;

I minded once to see her beauty gnarled,

But now her truth is given me to live,

As I learn for myself we must be hard 

To move among the tender with an open hand,

And to stay sensitive up to the end

Pay with some toughness for a gentle world.

May Sarton