Private Property
Sometime in the middle of the summer, I heard children outside our house, in the churchyard that is adjacent to our street and home. I looked out the window and saw two school-aged children, a girl and a boy, digging in the untended churchyard. They were there for quite a while. I watched through the windows without making myself known, so as not to disturb their adventures. They were making a small garden plot. They dug up a tall weed and replanted it, poured a canteen full of water over it, and used a pile of bricks along the retaining wall to mark off their new garden. Neil, delighted, took pictures from the second story.
They were back within a few days, this time with packets of seeds. They dug in the dirt, planted seeds, and raced back and forth from the river (for water), to the garden plot, to their home at the top of the street for supplies, and back again. Their enthusiasm and excitement was palpable. I enjoyed being a "fly on the wall" to their escapades, but really paid little attention to them, other than to take joy in their mere presence and in the wonders of childhood.
Last week I was in the churchyard and noted that their little garden plot now had lettuce, carrots, and zinnias. I was truly impressed. It also had a beat-up sign laying next to it: PRIVATE PROPERTY.
Yesterday I stood at my back door when the two children raced through the churchyard again. I heard the girl exclaim, "Look at our garden and how big everything has become!" I was hesitant to invade their "secret garden," but nevertheless, yelled out, "Congratulations! I saw it the other day and everything looks wonderful." My praise was warmly received.
A bit later I made my way over the retaining wall, using the cement block steps that Bob has set up, and asked if I could take a picture of their garden plot. The girl was thrilled and posed right away as I held up my camera. I'm not sure about the ethics of posting the names and pictures of children who I don't know on the Internet, so let me just say that C and A live at the top of our street; they are brother and sister and are probably about 7 and 8 years old; to me they represent all of the wonders and magic that childhood has to offer. Have I ever mentioned just how much we love our neighborhood?
The first day of the garden. |
They were back within a few days, this time with packets of seeds. They dug in the dirt, planted seeds, and raced back and forth from the river (for water), to the garden plot, to their home at the top of the street for supplies, and back again. Their enthusiasm and excitement was palpable. I enjoyed being a "fly on the wall" to their escapades, but really paid little attention to them, other than to take joy in their mere presence and in the wonders of childhood.
Last week I was in the churchyard and noted that their little garden plot now had lettuce, carrots, and zinnias. I was truly impressed. It also had a beat-up sign laying next to it: PRIVATE PROPERTY.
Yesterday I stood at my back door when the two children raced through the churchyard again. I heard the girl exclaim, "Look at our garden and how big everything has become!" I was hesitant to invade their "secret garden," but nevertheless, yelled out, "Congratulations! I saw it the other day and everything looks wonderful." My praise was warmly received.
A bit later I made my way over the retaining wall, using the cement block steps that Bob has set up, and asked if I could take a picture of their garden plot. The girl was thrilled and posed right away as I held up my camera. I'm not sure about the ethics of posting the names and pictures of children who I don't know on the Internet, so let me just say that C and A live at the top of our street; they are brother and sister and are probably about 7 and 8 years old; to me they represent all of the wonders and magic that childhood has to offer. Have I ever mentioned just how much we love our neighborhood?
Here is C with her garden. A was not so inclined to have his picture taken. That's our house in the background. |
This is the latest addition to their garden - some sort of important entrance to the garden. |
C said that they use these as gnomes for their garden. When I inquired about the cut sticks, A said, "Because they look cool." Of course. |
I love this post!
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