The Seeds of Something
Friday, July 09, 2010
When I opened my back door at the sound of his knocking, it was obvious that he came bearing gifts. The presents, sloppily wrapped in brown paper, came as a sort of surprise, I wasn’t expecting anything from him at all. Instantly the selfish side of my mind takes over. All I want to know is what he could have brought me? What he could have seen that made him think of me? So I open the package. At first I think it’s a joke because it’s a paper cup that has vegetables painted on it with a plastic top. The entire thing weighed no more than a cup of noodles, which I ate back in university. I look at him.
“You bought me a cup of vegetable soup?” He rolls his eyes and tells me to pay better attention. I look again, it’s seeds for a chili plant. The paper cup is full of dirt.
Why even bother to get me anything if you are just going to get me a cup of dirt? Nothing wrong with the gift, I say, but the fact is I can’t plant seeds. I can barely take care of myself let alone making me responsible for another object, it’s not my idea of a good time. He starts talking excitedly of the chili plants he’s been growing and I am still stuck on receiving a cup of dirt for my birthday. Doesn’t he know me at all? Doesn’t he know my limitations of what I can and cannot do? What does he think, after feeding me hundreds of meals, cleaning my flat, fixing broken wheelchairs, and unlocking doors which I didn’t have the physical capability to open, he would know that this present would be more trouble than anything else.
“So are we gonna sit here and keep talking or are we gonna plant these things?” All of a sudden, with massive amounts of dexterity he jumps up and flies over to the kitchen sink, opening the paper cup and the package of seeds, adding water as necessary, and then dumping the seeds out onto the table.
“Your turn”, he says. After a second I look at him blankly. What is he talking about? What is he doing? He continues to look at me in expectation. “Go on then, I’ll hold the cup, you put the seeds in. They need to be planted about two inches apart….Its not going to spill, I have hold of the cup right here.” I look at him, he has absolutely lost his mind. Even if I do manage to get these tiny little pepper seeds into a pile of dirt and bury it, the thing is just going to die. I really don’t have the capability of managing any more house plants. When you depend on someone else to get you a drink of water, the plant seemed like a good excuse to start a group called “Planned Planting” to look for alternative homes for the houseplant you’ve been given. The chili seeds are impossible for me to hold on to until I get them on the tip of my finger and I am slowly able to make the seeds stick to my just long enough to be placed on top of the dirt. He poked behind the back of the seeds, pushing them in
“That should do it nicely, I’ll come by in a few days to water and, when it’s time, you and I can repot them. There’s loads of new pots at Tescos. Though, you should get a set now for when they grow bigger. I even have some compost in the back of my boat.”
It wasn’t until he said that that I finally realized what my birthday from him actually was. All of a sudden I had my very own gardener to help me plant chili plants. He comes back every few days to check up on them and give them water when needed. And, just as I promised, I bought three pots on sale from Tescos for one pound fifty. This morning when I woke up, I found eight tiny seedlings in a paper cup. Their heads just beginning to raise towards the sun, and immediately I texted him to see if he would come by and have a look. Whenever he comes to give them more water, the value of his birthday present grows exponentially. He is one of those people who gives up his time freely, making you feel like you are the most important person in the world. And with that comes the astounding ability to give a precious gift that no one else can replicate, regardless of how much money may be thrown or the size of the celebration.
Every morning when I come downstairs, I look at the tiny plants in the paper cup, wondering if they need to be watered for that day. Whenever I start to think that they do, he inevitably comes by with the watering can, ready to make sure that everything in our little paper cup garden is properly cared for. I’ve even started to figure out additional uses for chili’s to see what will come during harvest time. One morning he came in with a new challenge, sunflowers. He wants to see how high he can make one grow inside my two story windows. This time, I didn’t turn my nose up so quickly at his present. I realized that he gave me himself.