Growing Hope

Robert wouldn’t leave me alone.

He was like a shadow, following me closely as I moved through the garden. Every time I stopped to lean over and check a plant, he leaned to check. Every time I stopped to talk to a student, he hung back, trying to act like he couldn’t hear our conversation. I was getting a little annoyed.

I finally stopped and turned to him.

“Robert, what’s on your mind today?”

His face drew uncomfortably close to mine. “Spence, you know I’ve been doing this stuff all my life.”

He continued. “I’ve been gardening a long time. But Spence, you don’t know how much this class means for these other guys.”

His arm swept across the garden.

Kenneth worked alongside Jonathan, carefully sowing seeds. Clark gently filled seed trays with rich compost. Charley watered our okra while he diligently inspected leaves for fungus and pests. Erik carefully turned a watermelon over to prevent a sunspot. George had rolled his sleeves up and closed his eyes, face turned towards the sun as he basked in the warmth. Juan was in his usual spot amongst the pepper plants as he pulled weeds. Davey sweated as he turned our compost pile, adding oxygen to hasten the decomposition process.

A remarkable sight. Men of all ages, all backgrounds, all ethnicities, all religions, all come together to work in God’s creation.

“Spence, this place can take everything from you. This is my first and my last time in prison. I don’t ever want to see this place again. But what we’ve done here, building this garden, teaching these guys, these guys who have never grown nothing before, what we’ve done is remarkable. When they get back in the dorm, it’s all they talk about all week. The changes they’ve been through, I just wish you could know what this class has done for them.”

I thanked Robert for his kind words. I reminded him that I learned just as much from them as they learn from me. I told him how much a joy and privilege it is to serve men like him.

The sun glared down on us. The garden was basked in light. Plants towered over us and flowers blossomed in color. The rich smell of loam filled the air.

A blessed day. In prison, of all places.

George Washington Carver said, "I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting system through which God speaks to us every hour, if we only tune in". In every class, God speaks to me, and it is my prayer that our students hear Him as well. May we all have ears to hear and eyes to see.

Have a wonderful day.

Spencer