What my garden taught me about Immigration

After a life of learning from my mistakes, lately, I have been trying to learn also by observation.  Call it preemptive mistake avoidance.  So far it seems to work pretty well.

Earlier this year, I planted my first all organic garden; yea, even using organic fertilizer.  The refurbished Troybilt rear tine rototiller worked well as multiple passes were completed every few days to prepare the soil.  The rows were measured and the lines straight as I carefully planted each seed according to Hoyle.

After watering, and waiting a few days, it was exhilarating to see the first signs of life exploding from the ground.  It felt like a personal return to the earth, to the agriculture traditions of the elders, and a proud primitive feeling of self sufficiency swept over me.   Grocery store?  I don’t need no stink’n grocery store!

Time passed, and a few weeks went by as the magic garden grew towards maturity.  The watering  became a ritual, nothing was too good for this labor of love.

At mid-summer, the time for summer Bible Camp came, and off I would be going to spend a week in Idaho visiting my youngest son and wife, while being spiritually renovated.  Plans to water the garden were made with my daughter, who actually talked her boy friend into doing the job.  That skill will come in handy when they are married.  Believe me she is talented at delegating.  The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

Just before leaving, I’d noticed some small weeds coming up in the nice clean rows, but felt they could be  handled upon my return.  It would only be a week.

Fast forward one week.  Already my garden was teaching me not to procrastinate.  The weeds were doing even better than the vegetables.  Some personal obligations prevented the pulling of these weeds, what’s a couple more days?

Actually it’s great for weeds.  The garden seemed to be for the weeds with some vegetables growing amongst them.  But, rationalizing, the produce looked like it was doing well, so let it be.

Then, a miracle.  My three year old asparagus plants that had been tilled, survived and were growing in the spaces between the rows!  To till the rows now would kill the the asparagus which take several years to mature.  Another excuse to not weed, and that would have consequences.

This garden was trying to teach me but I wouldn’t listen.  The weeds were by now choking out the vegetables.  It seems like all the preplanned hard work, done step by step, and line by line, according to the book, were all for naught because I failed to nip the weeds in the bud.

Looking at the mixed multitude of green, the entire garden was now overrun by weeds, with the vegetables in the minority in the very garden that was specially prepared only for them.  Everything, in preparation, execution and care, had been done properly.  Only the mistake of not weeding, one weed at a time, caused the present condition.

Then, it hit me, the weeds could represent illegal immigrants, the vegetables the posterity of the Founders.  Incrementally our country, just like this garden, was begun with careful planning, and established by the sweat of those who used their knowledge to avoid the mistakes in previous governments/gardens.  Yet, one lapse in judgment and postponed action, whether by compassion or neglect, caused the domino effect that resulted in the present state of this garden and our country.  When it comes to land, the result of diversity in peoples, cultures and even intermixed plants is the same – chaos.

The only thing to do now, is let everything die and start over next year.  There is room in my garden for many different types of vegetables, just like the many kinds of people in our country.  I will continue to plant them separately so that they can grow together according to their kind.  Each has different attributes, favors, if you will, and grows at a different rate in their own unique way.  I will appreciate them as the are.  But, I will be more responsible next near,  and will show no compassion for those weeds that try to immigrate without my permission into that special soil prepared for the vegetables.  The next garden will have in it only those plants that are here by my original intent and purpose.  They will be here to feed me; not to live off me.

Yes, I learned a lesson from my garden.