Driving home from work today, I noticed a community garden for the first time. The garden is in a pretty beat-up, run-down, ‘tough’ part of the city. The plot of land is just slight back from a busy six-lane freeway, and awkwardly stuck between a government housing building and a vacant parking lot.
I have no idea who started this garden, nor if this is the garden’s inaugural year. But seeing this smallish, fenced in, cobbled-together enclosure filled me with a sense of hope. It made me feel like people who are so often overlooked, cast aside, and/or disregarded (i.e., economically poor ethnic minorities) were being thought of, considered, and involved. Cared for. And, perhaps even more importantly, those individuals were actively caring for themselves, caring about themselves. Seeing this little plot of brown stakes and green sprouts infused my heart with optimism, and helped renew my genuine faith in the good.
Thank you nameless gardeners; I appreciate the boost you gave my soul today.