When I was a child, and even into high school, I would see my mother reading a gardening magazine or book quite often. She knows the names of so many flowers, and I remember quite a few times when she would tell me the name of some wildflower we'd pass on the side of the road. I always wondered how she could possibly be so interested in flowers that she could spend so much of her time learning about them. But because it seemed to make her so happy, I passed it off as some sort of specialized hobby and accepted it for what it was.
Now I know. I know that planting a flower makes you feel like you're doing something to make your home more beautiful, and a happier place. And that somewhere deep inside you feel that if planting a flower makes your family happy, then doing it makes you happy, too.
And so I garden. Not like my mother does, but I do my little bit that is enough to make me feel content that I've done something good as I walk through our yard.I do not yet have a daughter of my own, but I have a son who loves to sit by me and play while I work...because of course he would never pass up an opportunity to dig in the dirt. We got him his own kid garden tools and "boy" garden gloves (they are blue with worms on them), and he has been asking every day if it is a "warmer" day so we can garden. And though I know he would just as soon rip a flower to pieces as plant it, I am very grateful for this season where he and I can share something that makes us both smile.