The Gardener (a poem)

Tonight I was scheduled for to give a container gardening talk at the Mennonite Village, a retirement center in Albany, OR. This active garden club has many members who are lifelong gardeners or retired farmers. Weather was foul so I was happily surprised to find a nice crowd inside the brightly lit meeting room. When I finished I sat down and a sweet faced woman began softly reciting a poem to me. With her permission I’m pleased to share her poem on this blog. Katherine has been a gardener all her life, in Oregon and in the Matanuska valley of Alaska.

I till the ground in the early spring
and listen while the robins sing
and see the blossoms on the trees
and hear the humming of the bees

Carefully I plant each tiny seed
and care for their every need
with the summer sun and a gentle rain
their full growth they will attain

And blossoming flower or giant tree
someday these tiny seeds will be
and every day I plainly see
my great God’s wondrous love for me
—–Katherine E. McRay

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