I transplanted out several seedlings today: galeux d’eysine pumpkin, a warty pumpkin but from what i hear is delicious. summer solstice zucchini. and broccoli raab, a favorite green (at least mine). the squash seedlings were big and healthy and i know they’re going to be fine in the little mounds i put them in. the broccoli seedlings, though, were long and spindly, and if i didn’t have enough confidence bred by the success i’ve already had transplanting these wintersown greens, i’d probably be too fearful for them to enjoy the process.
as i was transplanting them out, i was struck by how fragile they looked, and i could almost hear a distinct creaking (groaning?) as i teased their roots out and separated them. i tend to sow with a heavy hand, as this is my first year wintersowing, i just wanted to be sure i would have enough germination to decide it’s worth it. as it happens, i have way too many seedlings:) and instead of thinning out, i’ve been advised to plant them as “hunk-o-seedlings” and let nature choose which would be the strongest ones to survive.
but being a mom, i couldn’t help thinking as i uprooted them from their cozy home (the bottom half of a Rice Dream container filled with Miracle Gro) that if i weren’t careful i’d be hurting these babies instead of helping them. i wondered, if seedlings could think, would they be worried about where i was taking them? would it
bother them that their roots were being disturbed, that they were being removed from the nourishing home where they had been born and thrived? i’m not one to talk to plants, but i know some people do, and at least today i was talking to these little ones in my mind (i wouldn’t dare speak aloud lest my neighbor hear me — being Asian and a homeschooler in a predominantly white neighborhood, i don’t want to give them one more reason to think we’re strange:-))…. and i was telling them, “don’t worry, you’ll be fine, mommy knows best, you’ll like it better here….”
we’ve moved so much in our 15 years of married life that people look at us askance when they find out this is our 8th home. the first move out of st. louis was the most heartbreaking one. for the first time, at 30 years old, i wouldn’t be able to see my parents everyday. our first 2 kids were born there, and they had grown — our oldest was 6 at the time and our second was 1 1/2 — and needless to say my parents are like their second parents. crossing the street to go to lola‘s house was an everyday occurrence. the fact that we were moving 17 hours away to texas was very painful, to them and to us. but a company wanted my husband there and as much as it hurt me, i knew that my place was with my husband and i wouldn’t be completely happy anyway if i weren’t with him, even if it was too far to see my folks but a couple of times a year….
the thing is, through all our moves and our heartaches, the overwhelming thought at the end of the day is that He is taking care of us. He knows what’s best for us. He has a plan, and we may not understand it, but in the end He always delivers. and we always manage to not only survive but grow in height and breadth and strength and faith… and bloom where we are planted. over the years we’ve had to pray and think a lot about major decisions that we’ve made. luckily hubby and i always manage to keep God in front of us, as we hold on to each other. and many times we didn’t have clear answers, but walked the path that we believed was where God wanted us to go, and He has never failed us, not once.
in a few years, maybe we’ll be moving again. we’re not 100% sure this is what we want, but it seems to be the right thing to do. as always, we pray for discernment and the courage to trust. and so as i transplant these babies, i tell them, “Trust me.” like i’ve learned to trust my Lord.
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