Living in a desert makes it difficult to grow much of anything.
Unless its sagebrush, cactus, or the ever prominent tumbleweed, you'll be hard pressed to find anything long-term, where there is no consistent water source.
However, there was a place of solace one could find, if you lived here, in New Mexico.
Somehow, through the dry, scorched earth, a beautiful myriad of color would burst through the mass of dull green shrubbery, and dirty blue skies. In the middle of this desolate place, my mother had planted a garden.
This was no ordinary garden, mind you.
Sturdy walls embraced the outside edge; giving shade to those plants, frail to the noon-day sun, and much-needed respite from the harsh, never-ending force, that we call wind.
Reaching further upwards, horse-fence graced the walltop, protecting the contents therein from the predators and greedy paws of would-be intruders.
Carefully cultivated soil, dark, rich, sweet smelling groundcover, gave space and nutrients to the wandering root systems of the various vegetables and flowers.
This is merely the outside. A veritable fortress, against any rodent, looking for an easy snack.
Once you pass through the creaky gate, a new world takes shape.
This world was my mom's happy place.
It wasn't hard to see why.
Strong tomato plants, with dashes of red and yellow, stand proudly along the east wall.
Daring squash plants, hugging the ground, creep along the west side.
Small marigolds, dot the ground with splashes of yellow, and orange.
In the far corner, a watermelon seed had snuck in unnoticed... It had become a monster, over the spring. Looming behind the rows of peas and carrots.
Stepping through the entry, was like stepping through a portal, to another dimension.
This was my mom's garden.
It was...
Now, it's once majestic walls, have crumbled. The ground, once intense black, now grey, and parched. The plants are no more than a mere memory...
What happened to this place?
Where did it all go?
Mom knew how to add color to a dreary situation.
She always had the right words to say.
Like the garden, she protected us... not in a commanding way... but in a way that allowed us to enjoy every bit of God's creation.
She read the Bible, giving us a strong Biblical foundation, and spiritual nutrition.
Her heart was full of His love.
When you talked to her, you would be taken to a different place. Her words of wisdom were unmatched, and genuine.
My mom's garden was merely an outpouring of who she was when she was here.
But my mom is gone... as is her garden.
The memory lingers. The love stays strong.
Her legacy will continue, in each of our own gardens... which we will plant, nurture, and care for.
Maybe one day, our garden will be added to hers.
