Dear Tom

Dear Tom,

Remember these little gardening gloves?

 Okay, probably not... go ask you lovely wife.


She probably picked them out, but the three of you gave them to Gracie. It was in a set with a little shovel and a little fork like gardening tool.  You gave it to her when I had that brilliant idea to make the construction debris pile outside the apartment into a garden.

I bet you do remember that.

I remember you men laughing at me for attempting to turn that pile of rubble into tomato plants and cucumber vines.

It happened though.  I am sure you and Garren were the most shocked when little buds and leaves flourished in that pile of discarded rocks and dirt.

I wasn't. I was so sure that my plan would work.  I always seem to think that when I get creative.  I never think much about failure or how it won't work out.  I am not sure if it is my naive ways, or just my faith in things turning out for the best.  It might be a mixture, or likely my defiance to think about failure.

I have never been a pro and con kind of girl.  I just decide I am going to do something and I do it.  Of course I am not a strong and fearless lady either.  More often than not my creative ideas flop and I feel defeated--at least for a while.

I wanted to show you this picture because as the kids dug in the very small garden spot next to this house, I thought of you, and Colette and Mallory and that scrap yard garden.  I wanted to show you how your gift of love was still used and cherished and now it is getting dirty all over again with a new small set of Shipley hands.

Our Thomas wears them well.  Like most boys he loves to play in the dirt.

Gracie still loves to help year after year with the garden.

And, like so many years ago, I keep shoveling on, creatively finding ways to make piles of unwanted debris into something meaningful.

I am still looking for the meaning in being so far away from friends and family.  The most I can come up with is that distance makes the heart grow fonder, and those that we can not have, we appreciate all the more when we see them again.

This spring I am sending you all warm wishes for a new beginning and new adventures, and sending thanks that you share in so many old adventures, and that we all can savor them whenever God sends us little reminders, like a very small pair of gloves.

Barbara 

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