I will never forget watching the truck as it
started to release its wood chip load. The three kids and I stood to watch,
noses to the window in anticipation, as the chips started to form a mound, a hill, and then...our jaws dropped as the truck dumped its entire
load of wood chips into a sizable mountain that measured a good twelve
feet in diameter and at least five feet tall!
The driver
waved cheerily and went on his way, leaving us to run outside and examine this
new geographical feature. It didn’t take long for the kids to discover that a plastic
winter toboggan slides well down a wood chip mountain.
My husband took one
look when he got home from work, and laughed at the ridiculous sight of enough
wood chips to open a garden center. All summer we shoveled. Every tree on the
property, flower bed, hidden nook and cranny -- all received a nice, thick decorative blanket of wood chips. We offered wood chips to neighbors. But
still, that pile grew smaller only infinitesimally.
Every imaginable spot in our yard received a blanket of wood chips! |
One day, we
drove into the yard to see smoke emanating from the middle of the pile! It was
in the process of internally combusting under that summer sun. We grabbed the
rakes, spread the chips some more, and sprayed them down with water, so that no
real fire could incubate.
We reached
the end of ideas, as to what to do with all that mulch. When the pile had
finally shrunk to a somewhat manageable size, we shoved it against the exterior
wall of the garage into a shallow flower bed, contained by bricks. I found a damaged
statue of St. Francis that needed rescuing at Hobby Lobby. Three feet tall, the
resin statue had a hole in the top of his head and another in his knee. But arranged
strategically, St. Francis filled the space beautifully.
Hostas took up
residence and flaming orange day lilies. A garden trellace backed St. Francis,
and then a decorative black iron grillwork of grapes and leaves. A sundial came
to perch on the bricks, a good reminder of time’s passing and of keeping
perspective and priorities in order.
Later, a
local lady needed a new home for her lovely concrete grotto of Mary. It was so
heavy, it took four of us to put the shrine in our car. Back home, we placed it
next to the St. Francis garden. Her corner was unattractive, so this summer, I
got to work. Sept the area clean and positioned a nice garden stepping stone in
front, creating a lovely surface for candles.
I replanted
some of flourishing, fragrant mint into pots to flank the shrine, and found a
waist-high trellace of cast iron, drastically reduced at a neighborhood store.
A bell hangs from the trellace. It makes a nice, mellow clang, like a call to
prayer. The top of the trellace is shaped like a crown. I placed the trellace
in just such a way, that this little outdoor area for Our Lady is now an enclosed
little nook that looks like it was designed carefully. I placed a chair there,
and have started praying Rosaries in that peaceful spot.
I just sat
out there a moment ago, and this thought came to me: this corner of the
garage, was once one of the least attractive and most abandoned spots in the yard. But now I
love it. It all started with that surprising wood chip pile. Whoever had
the idea of creating a planting bed from those remaining chips, set up a
situation that evolved into a lovely prayer spot years down the road. Every day
this summer, I’ve been raking that spot, tending it, placing plants and candles
there. And now the spot is loving me back! It beckons to me daily.
This sort of intentional care, nurtures friendships and family ties, too, as well as
our intimacy with God. If we long for eternity and love Our Creator
intentionally, each day, through prayer, Mass, and seeking God’s Will in
everything, than our relationship to Him will begin to bloom in all sorts of
creative, surprising and wonderful ways.
When I
visited remote missionaries across our nation for Catholic home mission
EXTENSION Magazine, I saw priests, religious and lay people acting just like
earnest gardeners, in tending their mission outposts, and their personal friendship with God
and their people. In impoverished spots, I saw literal gardens, that, in their blooming, seemed emblematic of all the great things happening in the spiritual and material realm through God's promptings. I saw grottoes tended and humble, yet lovely churches. I also saw practical outreaches blooming, in the form of clean
and efficient soup kitchens and resale shops, so the poor could buy what they
needed.
We have our
own missionary outreach in our daily lives, right within the four walls of our
home, and outside, too, in our neighborhoods. And if
things get tough, we can be inspired by our missionaries and their people. They
encounter some of the toughest situations amidst poor and often desolate
locations. They go toward areas others flee, and then mindfully and prayerfully
allow God to work, causing wonderful things to manifest -- and souls and personalities -- to bloom. May we, too, be open to the ideas
and promptings given to us through the Holy Spirit, so we can be agents of
beauty and change in our suffering world.