A Bit of Earth

Photo by Grace Laney

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We first met Charles, or “Too Short” as he introduced himself, after we moved into our house on Oakland Street. Living across the intersection from him, I quickly learned he loves to dance, dress up on Halloween, sing, and listen to 70’s soft rock hits full blast while sitting on his front porch on warm days. He also loves to garden. The plants he coaxes from the earth are his pride and joy. He has often waved me over to look at his flowers and vegetables, proudly pointing out their fragrance or fruit. He finds irises in abandoned lots and transplants them. He grows 10 foot tall sunflowers from seeds. He nurses vegetable seedlings in pots, waiting for just the right time to transfer them into the soil, to mature and bring forth food that he then shares with us. In good clean fun, laughs at those of us who try to garden (me, as well as those who try to dance--my dear husband, who can ham it up in his charming white boy way). He told me once, while making sweeping gestures over his yard, that he praised God for this bit of earth. He used to be homeless, but now, he has land to cultivate.

Charles has had his ups and downs over these five years. We’ve shared tears and laughter, and something that I wrongly assumed was rare in more economically depressed areas of this mill town. We share the love of beauty.

Because of Charles, I began to notice small gardens scattered throughout the neighborhood. The Historic District and its surrounding streets exhibit both significant wealth and significant poverty. Somehow, the beauty in the small garden plots of rental homes move me more than the lush green lawns of estates, manicured into landscapes of art.

I began to view these little plots as displays of hope springing from circumstances that seem otherwise dismal. Potted plants growing on porches overrun with broken toys and porch furniture. Tomato vines rising from yards littered with fast food detritus. Flowers decorating grassless dust. On a side of town that no one seems to care much about, these gardens stood as evidence that someone there cared enough to hope that something beautiful would come from their work in the ground.

Of course, I don’t know what motivates anyone to plant a garden. I do know that for Charles, it is an opportunity to bring forth beauty from the earth, to exercise dominion over what has been given to him. In his work, I see the living echoes of the blessing spoken over the first man and woman, who were given dominion over the earth and a garden to cultivate and keep.

Today, we all work a cursed ground. Even so, those who coax beauty from it bring hope as we remember our descent from the first gardeners and look forward to our ascent to the sweet life-bearing gardens in the city of God. In between the Fall and full redemption, we dig, we plant, we wait, and we praise God, bringing forth beauty where we are. We aren’t necessarily homeless, but we are certainly not home yet.

Thanks for showing me this, Charles. Love you, brother.