One day Auntie Priss came into the backyard with a huge basket of clippings from her yard.
"What are we going to do with those clippings?" Grandma Sugar just looked at me with a smile.
"Oh, I know," I said. "We are going to use them in between the rows to keep the weeds down."
Auntie Priss looked so surprised and amazed. "Where did that child get to be so smart?"
Grandma Sugar turned to Auntie Priss and said, "Right here." She was right.
Grandma Sugar and I took several evenings to maked raised beds. The soil was warmer, and the seeds would just jump in a sprout out in a few weeks.
"We are about ready to plant some sunflowers," Grandma Sugar said, handing me a packet of seeds. Then she turned the seed packet over and showed me how to read about when it said to plant the seeds.
I carefully placed the seeds in rows, and covered them with soil. With my tennis shoes on, I stepped on top of the soil to pack it down. Grandma Sugar sat at the edge of the garden making signs to put at the end of each row, with a date on it. Each year we would keep those signs in a scrapbook with photos of me and Grandma Sugar in our garden.
Grandma Sugar had a whole basket full of seeds to plant. One by one, we planted rows of corn, beans, cucumbers, onions, lettuce, tomatoes, and lots more flowers. Grandma Sugar would even dry some of those flowers each year in the basement of her house.
In the middle of summer, I would run down to the garden with my large basket and gather all the ripe cucumbers, corn, onions, and lettuce. Grandma Sugar would yell, "Pick a salad from the bed." We had planted lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers, and onions all close together, and it was like picking a salad. All we needed was dressing!
In the evenings, Grandma Sugar would take her spot in her favorite chair. One evening, I ran over after I finished picking a few beans. "Child, can you hear that?" she asked.
"What?" I asked.
"Silence, child, silence. It's wonderful. Look at that sky! It looks like your Grandma took her paintbrush and mixed up some colors. Take it all in, child."
Growing up in Promise Township was wonderful. Each day, I would put a little slip of paper in a jar that Grandma Sugar kept on her table. She called it a memory jar.
I remember Grandma Sugar and her garden. I learned a lot of lessons in that garden.
THE END
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