The Fruits of Our Labor

Spring has sprung! Or for the most part, it seems. Over Spring Break, I did what I always do when that initial warmer weather starts to creep in– rush off to Lowe’s or Home Depot to buy the first green plant that I see. The “Mother Nature” gene in me (thanks, Dad) kicks in high gear and I have the urge to fill every window, vacant corner, or discarded pot with something living and vibrant.

Might there be a problem with all of this plant purchasing? Yes! My green thumb is not as green as I imagine it to be. Many a plant has made it back to my house and enjoyed its new location for a week or two. Eventually something happens—Lack of water? Too much water? Too much sun? Dog digging in potted plant soil? You might think that my past history with plants and gardening would discourage me from trying again this year. Not so.

This spring, I’m challenging myself. I recently purchased a lemon tree. Not a plant—a tree! An actual citrus tree. I’ve had about three weeks now with this twig of a tree. I move the tree from sunny window to sunny window. I mist it daily with a spray bottle. I’ve actually been online to read—and reread—just how much water this citrus tree should be receiving. My goal is to keep this tree alive so that I may reap the fruits of my labor. I’d be happy with just one lemon!

My lemon tree twig:

It struck me the other day how much commitment and care must go into producing a healthy, fruit-bearing tree. The work that I put into keeping this lemon tree living, and hopefully thriving, is not so different from the work that I do everyday with our students. I have this desire to take my twig lemon tree and see it evolve and grow into a beautiful, healthy living being.

When our students come to us in August, they are so young and sometimes fragile—like a small tree. They look to us for guidance and are eager to grow. We get to know each child and his or her likes and dislikes, strengths and areas for growth. We watch them daily and determine exactly what each of them needs to reach their full potential. There are moments when we are challenged. There are times when we are downright puzzled. There are days when we wake up and expect to see the fruits of our labor—or lemons!—and they are not there. Not yet. That does not mean that they will not come. After all, the student—or lemon tree—will thrive with the right amount of enduring love and care…. and sun. Lots of sun.

 

Learner, Thinker, Writer, Citrus-Grower:  Maggie Bradford serves the Trinity School community as a Second Grade Assistant Teacher.

3 thoughts on “The Fruits of Our Labor

  1. Maryellen Berry

    Maggie, you will need to speak to Stephen about lemon trees. He has had success with his lemon tree and it produced lemons. Good luck! I love the analogy of tending to your citrus tree to caring for students. The fruits of our labor are plentiful, with each child growing at his or her own pace, yet striving to be the best that he or she can be.

  2. Maggie, what a delightful post! I am also prone to buying plants and then accidentally killing them– but they are just so friendly and warm! I wish you all the luck with your little lemon tree. (And with all your future students!)

  3. Maggie– I am behind on my reading and just read this. What a great reminder that it takes patience to reap the fruits of our labor– in all areas of life! 🙂

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