new year pledges
in my hand
pumpkin seeds
~Elizabeth St. Jacques, Poetry in the Light
Over the weekend, I found a small treasure–a 4 oz. Mason jar with a mixture of pumpkin seeds in it. These were not
regular pumpkin seeds. Two years ago, when I worked at a church that is famous for its Pumpkin Patch, I had saved seeds from a variety of heirloom pumpkins and squashes white, green and striped in color. I had put them up to be planted last year, and clearly, I had secured them so well, that I never found them. Until Saturday.
Seeds salvaged from months’ old pumpkins lying in the compost bin then stored in darkness for two years. I advised myself, “Don’t get your hopes up.” I headed outside and at the edges of the carrot and potato beds, I stuck a few in the dirt. Over in the sunny patch by the coneflower, I poked a few under the mulch. I added some rich compost around them in an effort to encourage them along. My spirit joyfully danced around, “Aren’t you excited?” My mind responded, “We’ll see.”
Last night as I perused the gardens, I stopped by way of the corn and potato bed. Something dark green caught my eye–too fat for a carrot sprig. I turned my head–2 shoots appearing from one of the mounds of pumpkin seeds. As I looked around, I noticed several other friends appeared to start peeking through their soil as well.
And there they were–my “hopes.” They had come up.
You see, those pumpkin seeds reaffirmed what I already know about creation but never fail to be in awe of–that new life
springs forth even under the most questionable conditions. It simply takes a little sun, a little rain, a little care, and a little hope–hope being that childlike, unconditional desire that something good will come. And it did.
