Wait and pray

So far, nothing.

After planting my first batch of seeds, I placed them on an old tray–one Pat brought home from work with leftover sandwiches, I think–and made sure they were kept moist. I placed the whole tray on top of the stove and turned it on for about a twenty minutes, just long enough for the tray to get a little bit warm. I imagine that warmth is a signal to the life waiting inside those shiny black pods: Wake up! Spring is here!

But there’s nothing yet.

Planting seeds is exciting and daunting all at the same time. I can imagine the first green shoots that will break through the soil and I revel in the knowledge that those tiny little black dots will someday become big, tasty leeks for soups and sauces or lovely flowers to grace my landscape or my table. But I also know that with life, there is no certainty. My little seeds face so many challenges. Will they germinate? And if they do, will they be struck down by mold or fungus or disease? When they get large enough and the weather gets warm enough that I can transplant them to the garden, will they be eaten by rabbits or earwigs or trampled by children playing soccer?

Life, especially the very tiny beginning of life, is fragile. And sometimes there is nothing we can do but wait and pray.

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