This is how excited I felt when I saw them: three little pods! To somebody else, it might be just a simple, ordinary ewedu plant (ngburu, jute, whatever name you know it by). Psheeeew! But to me, it was treasure.
I ordered the seeds from Pennsylvania in the spring and
planted them with great expectations. Quite a few germinated after only a few
days, and I was already imagining tall, generous plants and bowls of fresh
ewedu. But the seedlings had a different plan. They simply refused to grow. I
watered them, watched them, encouraged them in my mind, and even talked to them
(yes, I talk to my plants sometimes), and waited. One by one, most of them
died.
Jute plants can grow
more than ten feet tall, but if you had seen mine, you might have asked whether
they received that information. They stayed short, I mean, very short. Each
time I reached them while watering, I wondered why I was still spending time and
water on plants that seemed determined not to do anything. Eventually, I
removed my mind from them. I accepted that ewedu would not be on my table that
year.
Then one evening, as I watered the garden, something caught my eye. There were four pods on one of the plants. Four! I leaned closer to make sure I was seeing correctly. After all the waiting, the stunted growth, and the plants I had lost, this little survivor had quietly begun producing seeds. I also noticed more flowers. Who knows? Those flowers might become more pods.
I may not get enough
leaves to prepare ewedu this season, but if those pods mature, I will have
seeds for next year, and perhaps a better harvest. Suddenly, the watering,
waiting, and effort did not feel wasted. The plant had not produced what I
expected, but it had produced something that could carry hope into another
season.
Gardening keeps reminding me that fruit doesn't always arrive as we imagine. Sometimes we are looking for leaves while God is preserving seeds. Sometimes what seems too small to celebrate holds the beginning of what comes next.
Sometimes the harvest is not what we eat today. Sometimes it is the seed that teaches us to hope for tomorrow.
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.