I grew up basically on the farm, and I have gardened for the past fifteen years. Not one year did I miss planting okra. I have planted the seeds, watched the flowers open, harvested the pods, and chopped the tired plants down at the end of the season. Yet, until recently, I did not know that okra leaves were edible.
A friend from another country visited my garden and
casually asked how I prepared my okra leaves. I looked at her as though she had
asked how I prepared the fence. The leaves? I had never considered them food.
To me, the pods were the harvest; the leaves simply helped the plant produce
them.
Coincidentally, or maybe
not, because sometimes I wonder how private our phones really are, the next
time I opened Facebook, the first thing on my feed was a lesson on harvesting
and cooking okra leaves. Then another friend visited and began telling me how
they prepare the leaves where she comes from. Suddenly, information that had
escaped me for decades was following me everywhere.
Now I am preparing myself mentally to try them. Me being me, I cannot simply cook them without first considering every possibility. Should I begin gently with the young leaves in a smoothie or salad? Should I use the mature leaves for soup? What texture should I expect? And most importantly, how did I grow up helping my mom plant and harvest okra without ever knowing the leaves had value too?
For years, we chopped
those plants down at the end of the season and threw the leaves away. I had
been standing beside something useful and seeing only one part of its purpose.
Familiarity convinced me I already understood the plant.
That discovery humbled and excited me at the same time. It reminded me that experience does not mean we have nothing left to learn. We can live beside a person, a place, a calling, or even an okra plant, for years and still discover value we never noticed. An old garden can teach a new lesson when we remain curious enough to look again.
Familiarity is not the end of discovery. Even an old garden can teach us a new way to see.
Garden & Reflections offers a glimpse into the experiences
and everyday lessons that shape me beyond the therapy room. These personal
reflections are shared thoughtfully while honoring the professional boundaries
of the counseling relationship.