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OR more than a score of years, my 
,.. friends that never bore, never impose 
-and never inflict any penalties upon one 
‘another. We understand each other... and 
vasa result... both of us flourish. But my 
garden is different from the average... 
vastly different. ©. 
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For instance, in the average garden when 
one plants petunias, petunias come up and 
bloom...and if one plants radishes, 
radishes grow! But I repeat, my garden 
_ is different ... I plant petunias, asters, 
;zinmias and harvest in bountiful return 
“... contentment, satisfaction. relaxation 
and appreciativeness, 
In short, my garden gives me solace and 
quietude from a world of turmoil and strife 
=. it is the one spot in my life, where, after 
= the world extracts eight, ten and even 
: .. twelve hours of physical and menta! energy, 
I can gather to me a feeling of contentment, 
and rest, that try as I may, I cannot dupli- 
“cate it in any other manner, believe me. 
To start with, my garden is no different 
than that patch of ground outside your 
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pared, 
same as that... with dirt... the stuff for 
which children are scolded when they be- 
come too familiar with it...and yet, did 
you ever see a healthy normal youngster 
that didn’t like to dig in the soil? 
There’s something warm and intimate 
in working with good growing-earth ... 
and why not...does not life itself stem 
from the very earth? So, when I plant my 
garden I feel privileged indeed to stimulate 
to life the tiny live spark deep within each 
seed...1 love seeds... small diminutive 
specks endowed by God with the power 
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=. garden and I have been good friends ~ 
own doorstep... it starts out exactly the — 
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to bring forth living testimony of Nature’s 
greainess...it makes me stop and think 
.-. when J plant a seed! And when | realize 
that that privilege is mine, something in- 
side me swells with a feeling that wipes 
away all man-made cares and tribulations. ~ 
Yes, gardening brings a man to his 
knees, right down to earth... and for most 
of us that’s good...for too often do we 
walk among our fellow men with our noses 
held just a bit too high! But on your knees 
in contact with the moist soil, gently 
warmed by Spring’s early sunshine, ah! 
that’s the time you have a moment to 
yourself in which te relax and think about 
the worth-while things in life. 
Oh, yes, the world passes by my garden 
and admires its beauty of color... its fra- 
gility of blooms and its generosity of crisp, 
health-giving vegetables ...some of my 
friends and neighbors comment on the 
practical side of my gardening... even. 
smack their lips in anticipation of pre- 
served fruits and tasty vegetables, way 
cut of season ...and others perhaps envy 
ray “savings.” Yes, those things, the pass- 
ing world sees and admires. 
Perhaps that’s why I smile to them and 
to myseif when their words of praise ring 
in my ears, for little does the world know 
that the outward signs of my gardening 
are but the aftermath of the true harvest 
of gardening . . . the feeling inside, that 
" you're glad that you're alive... that there’s 
a God in Heaven ...and that once again 
throughout the world shall re-echo the 
ery that “All’s Well.” 
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