Shades of Green

Day 125

I went for a walk today and a woman in my neighborhood, about a mile from my house, was out working in her vegetable garden. I complimented about how lush it looked. That may not seem like a significant act of kindness, but it was harder than you think.

You see, my husband and I are intensely jealous of her garden. Every year, no matter how much compost we put on ours, hers is better. No matter how often we weed, we are overrun and she has none. Her tomato plants are fuller, her corn is taller. Her cucumber plants seem to never stop producing. As a matter of fact we refer to her as the “Cucumber Lady,” although we do make an effort to call her Mrs. S. to her face.

Today I said “Mrs. S your garden looks absolutely fabulous, as usual. I don't know how you have been able to keep it looking so good with the incredible heat this month.” She shook her head and indicated she thought there was room for improvement. But she beamed and it was clear her vegetables were a great source of pride.

The green-eyed monster reared it's ugly head, but in the name of kindness, I ignored it and focused instead on the green of her garden.