Carrot seeds

The Karoo garden is a real challenge! I can't say I'm an avid gardener, but the miracle of planting a seed, nurturing it, and watching it grow has always appealed to me.


It's easy, (and huge fun!) going to a garden centre and spending hundreds of rand on plants, but a cutting taken from a friend's garden is always a treasure. Most of the plants in my garden have been given to me by friends and family, and a stroll through my garden has the same effect on me as a social gathering.
"Oh look! There's Ouma Vrede's salmon-pink geranium, so pretty. The red one from Schuitsberg looks lovely too. Klokkies lavender had really grown, and Sybil's daisy's just flower non stop."
So it continues. Mum's miniature red petunia, Sylvia's Watsonias, and Sam's trailing plant with white flowers that I can never remember the name of. I greet my friends.


As with everything I do, Anna wants to join in the gardening experience. Our sun room also serves as a green house, and there are always seedlings growing in rows against the windows. Anna decides she is going to plant carrot seeds in a little pot. I try to convince her that the pot could be a tiny bit small. I should know better than to argue with a five year old. Naturally, I must be present, but I mustn't help. She'll do it herself. She is totally absorbed in the job at hand. Chubby little-girl hands clumsily sprinkle the seeds into the pot of her choice and she callously squashes them into the soil.  "It'll be a miracle if those grow," I think to myself.

I'm amazed at how seriously Anna takes on the responsibility. She understands that the seeds need her help to grow. They are alive, and without water they will die. Every day, without fail she takes her pint-sized, brass watering can and waters her seeds. Miraculously the carrots sprout. Oh!Joy! She is so excited she can practically taste them already. She's decided she's going to share them. Papa can make carrot juice, and I can put some in the salad. Maybe the guinea-pigs can have one or two. This is "Faith like potatoes" in action. She believes she's going to reap a ton! Who am I to dampen such faith? Aren't we intructed to become as little children? As always,  I feel humbled by the simple lesson.