Last weekend my husband and I returned to Aldridge Gardens—a thirty-acre woodland garden featuring a lake, wide trails, whimsical sculptures, native plants, azaleas, and hydrangeas. I needed a diversion, some sunshine, a wee bit of exercise, and a reminder of the beauty all around in nature. A walk in the gardens seemed like the perfect morning.
When I was in the eighth grade, I wrote a paper with the title, “Enthusiasm is Contagious.” I can’t remember what class it was for—but I do remember we had to stand in front of the room and read our paper to the class. I can’t say that anyone was bowled over with my writing or oratory skills. It was memorable because my teacher made a remark that it was an odd choice—I was not the outgoing, spirited type of person. At that moment, I realized people are judged by what is seen on the outside. I am not saying that is bad—it is a natural tendency. We can’t know what goes on inside a person.
My memories of Good Friday are of my parents getting up as soon as it was light to plant the garden. It wasn’t just a small garden in the yard. They had purchased acreage around our house where they had a garden plot. Daddy would plow it earlier in the week and have it ready for them to plant on Good Friday. I am not sure where that tradition originated — whether it was from the Farmer’s Almanac or simply Southern Folklore, but my parents religiously planted on Good Friday.
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