Plant Your Garden And Watch It Grow
“When was the last time you were truly happy, Grandpa Joe?”
Chloe’s grandfather beetled his heavy eyebrows at her, those animated eyebrows that she’d once pretended were furry caterpillars like the ones he paid her ten cents to pick off his cabbages. Ten cents for ten caterpillars and both of them considered it a bargain.
“Happiness is a state of mind, Chloe girl. You can choose to be happy or you can choose not be, and there ain’t a whole lot in between.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Chloe ran the flat of her thumb down the row of plump green peas, watching the small globes bounce from their podded beds to land in the stainless steel bowl sitting on the table between them. She never tired of shucking peas, never grew bored of splitting open a crisp pod to admire the rotund, verdant beauties nestled within before shunting them into the bowl to meet their other pea cousins for the very first time. People might say ‘as alike as two peas in a pod’ but as far as she was concerned, two hundred peas in a bowl all had their own unique shapes, characteristics, and quirks.
“I thought I did.” He bit off the end of one of the just-emptied pods and chewed it thoughtfully. Chloe heard the crunch of the pea shell between his dentures and she ducked her head to hide her smile. She knew he’d be complaining to Nana later, muttering about the darned pea strings under his plate, but he could never resist the bittersweet taste of a freshly picked pea pod. He’d told Chloe many times that the pod was the best part; after all, it was the part of the plant that sunned itself in the sun, quenched its thirst in the rain, and serenely watched the world go by as it nurtured its tiny, secret family of peas inside its felt-lined belly. Grandpa Joe was fond of ‘spinning yarns’, which was what he called his stories and Chloe was just as fond of listening to them.
“You mean you’re always happy?” Chloe doubted that was true. She’d seen her grandfather in all sorts of moods over the years.
“No one can always be happy. Who would want to be? We’re here on God’s good earth to experience all kinds of things and happiness isn’t the only emotion available to any of us.”
“Yes, but isn’t it the best?”
Grandpa Joe laughed, opening his mouth wide, and Chloe caught a glimpse of emerald green slivers of pea pod against the pink of his tongue. “I don’t know. There are plenty of good ’uns.”
“Tell me one.” She cracked open another pod and flipped the little pea marbles into the bowl.
“Glee. Glee is always fun.”
Chloe scratched at a stray hair that had wandered across her cheek to stick to her lip. She looked uncertainly at her grandfather. “I don’t know if I understand glee.”
He twinkled his wise blue eyes at her. “Glee is watching your eldest granddaughter walk up on the stage to collect her poetry award. Glee mixed with a healthy dose of pride.”
Chloe’s cheeks flushed with pleasure. The award had been a surprise to her, but she should’ve had an inkling that something was up when both Nana and Grandpa Joe unexpectedly joined her parents for the end of year prize giving. It wasn’t always easy for Grandpa to get out of the house and he generally only did so for the most special of occasions.
“Tell me another one.” She picked up the next pea pod, smiling to see that it still had a curling tendril of vine attached. A spiraling ringlet of greenery. A Jack and the Beanstalk offering given up from the pea world.
“Joy. I always did like joy.”
Chloe giggled. “Of course you like joy. Nana Joy is your wife.”
“She is? Well, how about that?” He reached for another empty pea shell and sucked on it as he considered this information as if it were new.
“Tell me more.” She was suddenly greedy for a whole bunch of Grandpa Joe’s tales.
“Gratitude. The world needs more gratitude.”
“What are you grateful for, Grandpa Joe?” She stuck her hand into the bowl of shelled peas, unable to resist taking a moment to swirl her hand through today’s harvest. Tonight at suppertime she would spoon a serving onto her plate, the peas bright green and tasting of sweetness and mint from the sprig that Nana would add to the pot.
“That’s easy. I’m grateful for a garden that responds to my encouragement, I’m grateful for the sunshine that eases the ache in my old bones, and I’m more than grateful for the love of my beautiful family.”
Chloe beamed. She loved it when Grandpa reminded her that she was part of his beautiful family. “More.”
“I’m going to place hope and kindness into the same sack. More often than not, hope and kindness wander along hand in hand, whistling a tune and feeling just fine.”
“Like when you hope for something and someone is kind enough to give it to you?”
“Something like that. However, I like to think that it’s more a case of filling your heart with hope and that hope overflowing into the form of everyday little kindnesses.”
“Do you have any more?” The un-shucked peas were nearly gone and Chloe was sad to see that the chore was almost finished.
“Surprise.” He winked at her and she saw a tiny smidgeon of pea shell had caught on his front tooth. A brilliant green gemstone in an ivory case. “I do love a good surprise.”
“What about a bad surprise?”
“We have to learn to take the good with the bad and I accept that. Nevertheless, you can’t beat a good surprise. A lot of happiness is attached to the good surprises I’ve experienced over the years.”
She nodded as she concentrated on running her thumbnail down the seam of the final pea pod.
“It’s your turn to tell me something now, Chloe.”
She tipped the last tumble of peas into the bowl and dropped the empty pod onto the pile of discarded shells. “What could I tell you that you don’t already know?”
“You asked me at the beginning when was the last time I was truly happy. Why would a little slip of a girl ask me such a thing?”
Her eyes drifted down, away from Grandpa Joe’s knowing gaze, as she bit her lip and said nothing.
Grandpa Joe reached for his crutches, the hickory wood sticks that were worn to a shine from years of use. He expertly maneuvered himself out of his battered wicker chair with his strong, muscled arms. His stumps of legs swung then hung, their stunted length stopping long before the place where most people’s knees began. Chloe’s grandfather had refused prosthetics for so long now that his doctor had stopped asking him. Grandpa Joe always insisted that all he needed was his hickory sticks, saying he figured that if they were good enough to hold up a tree they were good enough to support old Joe Newton.
“Happy is as happy does, Chloe. It’s what you make of what you’re given that makes the world go round. And if you really want to know the last time I was truly happy, I can tell you it was about 1 second ago. I’m also willing to bet that another surge of happy will be coming along anytime now. Plant your garden with memories and watch your happiness grow.” He angled himself out from behind the table and spun his sticks across the old wooden deck with all the agility and grace of an Olympic gymnast. “Bring that bowl of peas and we’ll go inside. A little birdie has just told me that Nana Joy has a glass of her homemade lemonade waiting for us.”
Chloe grinned, feeling a bubble of her own happiness start in her belly and rise up to expand into her chest as she scrambled to her feet to follow her grandfather inside the house.
The End