Feelin' the Love

Apricots. Blueberries. Raspberries. Radishes. An invitation to stroll into someone's backyard and pick fresh figs anytime. Sierra Vista's trees are in full bloom and the fruits of each labor are being gathered and shared. I paid a visit to a member's garden yesterday and he gave me a tour of the trees he nurtures. "These up here are for the birds, but the best figs are behind the leaves."

He was proud of the garden, touching the leaves and recalling when he planted them. His grandchildren napped inside, but would likely be climbing the ropes that lead to the tree house in the middle of the garden soon after dinner.

Sometimes the things we cherish the most mean nothing when we can't share them. Sometimes the greatest satisfaction comes from watching another appreciate your passion or hard work.

A grandpa. A garden. Trees bearing fruit and an invitation to pick and eat anytime.

Before I left, he took me across the street and clipped two magnolia blossoms from a tree. "You don't have these in Minnesota. I wanted you to see them and smell them." It is good to be the novice - to have many to teach and share on my behalf. It is good to celebrate the things that other people love and cherish.

I brought the blossoms home and popped a ripe apricot in my mouth. The little things people have shared this year mean the most. The smells and tastes will stay with me, reminding me of Arizona ten years from now. And then I reached for a handful of raspberries. I looked at them and said grace, as though they were a great feast. Grace for the fruit, grace for the growers, grace for the way we are designed to share in generous ways.