One day, little Eden looked like a sun-dried, red tomato.
We chose each beautiful prize and enjoyed everything for a few days – BLT to bruschetta, Caprese skewers and ordinary cherry tomatoes.
There is nothing more enjoyable than enjoying the fresh fruit of the vine … or is it the vegetable of our labor? I will never remember.
At first, my boys were strong helpers in the garden, and perhaps even a gentleman, they beat some until they learned to touch that soft tomato.
And chickens are more fun to chase, and dogs, or cats, or anything is more fun. When you are left with cattle hats and wild, riding bicycles, it is hard to panic over small children.
I stand alone in rows of heavy and tomato plants (unless exploring chickens is not considered a company).
“The harvest is great, but the workers are few,” said Claw Vader and Pep.
I want my children to look around the garden, to grow pumpkins, to grow trees for apples, or to collect thorns that have fallen to the ground, to live forever. I wish there were simple times when the biggest concern for young people is helping the family farm.
Sometimes, I think I want to turn the clock back instead of talking to COVID or the bad news that controls the media and conversations.
But how far should we go?
Nearly 50 years ago, the United States was at war with Vietnam, legalizing abortion, terrorists killing 11 Israeli Olympians in Munich, and the Beatles split.
We need more time to travel.
About a hundred years ago, 75 people died in the Tulsa Civil War, the stock market collapsed, and Adolf Hitler wrote “Maine Camp” from prison.
Baseball had a baby Ruth, but we still needed to go back.
We were revolutionary 250 years ago – in war and in industry. Americans fought for their lives and nearly 50,000 men, women, and children were killed every year as a result of a factory boiler explosion.
When were those simple times?
About 500 years ago, the first black slaves sailed to Santo Domingo.
Henry VIII became synonymous with political scandal, and the children of God were divided. Did parents choose time for their children?
What if we return 2,000 years after the Father chose to bring his only-begotten Son into the world?
That should be the best, simplest, safest, most clean and perfect time for the young person. I often think of Mary as an example for mothers and how she cared for the garden with Jesus.
I wonder how they played together to uproot little Jesus, or to hide and play among the broad mustard branches. What a beautiful time it should be.
Still, the infant rested on grass and cloth. For most of Christ’s childhood, they were hidden in Egypt from a dictator, a genocidal king.
The last years of Jesus’ life were not without its ups and downs.
Oh, how Mary wanted to protect her son. How her heart was broken when the fruit of her womb was gathered on the cross – rather it was pierced with a sword.
The harvest is plentiful.
My hope is that the destruction of the world, your problems and your temptations, all of them, must be a fertile land of abundant spiritual harvest.
All conflicts, coronavirus and accidents are indeed opportunities for workers. But how? Maybe we will look at other fruits.
In the wise words of Mother Teresa, “Prayer is the fruit of silence. The fruit of prayer is faith. It is the fruit of love. The fruit of the ministry is peace. ”
There is no point in human history. Mankind has always struggled with sin and suffering.
Once again, we are created for today, for this moment, and we are workers who know the love and saving grace of Jesus Christ.
Let’s start with the garbage in the garden with our families and pick the fruit of prayer.
I can imagine how our buckets would be filled.