I’m under no illusion that I’m a gardener. I enjoy tending, clipping, sorting and assembling plants, but their ability to grow and prosper under my watch is one of luck and nature’s enduring resilience.
I’ve tried, many times, to grow plants from seeds. Sadly, the whimpering wisp of a stalk soon turns to brown – either from too much or not enough water. One day someone told me how simple it was to grow a pineapple. Planting its cut top into the soil and waiting.
However, they didn’t tell me how long I’d have to wait.
Fortunately, the environment here is very conducive to growing tropical fruit – else it wouldn’t have been a consideration. So I did it. I cut the top off one pineapple, then another, then another. My garden was dotted with pineapple hair – like small heads peeking from the earth.
And I waited. And watched. For a short time.
I announced to friends that I was going to grow a pineapple. As though it legitimised my standing as a backyard gardener. Imagine my surprise and disappointment to learn that it might take 2-3 years (yes, years) for fruit to appear.
I would need to wait and watch.
There was no virtue in my patience. It got distracted with other shapes and colours that appeared in the garden. The tops faded into the background of the other tangled and enthusiastic tropical plants.
I’d like to think that patience is something I can call on – but it isn’t and wasn’t. I needed to school myself against instant gratification and rail against speaking first, then listening after. I soon realised that growing a pineapple was going to be more like a life lesson than something to brag about. Like other disciplines that require time, inner strength and calm, I too had found something that highlighted an aspiration. I too could find patience and in doing so, hope.
And hope is something that drives us all. (As well as something sweet and delicious to eat.)
letterassembly.com 