A Sweet Review: Homegrown Tomatoes: Essays and Musings From My Garden

5.0 out of 5 stars

A Truly Transformative Book

By Rhonda on August 19, 2016

Format: Kindle Edition

Judge Lemery has written before about his work as mentor with young men incarcerated at the juvenile prison in the community where his family has been rooted for generations. I had previously read, appreciated, and recommended widely his "Mentoring Boys to Men: Climbing Their Own Mountains." 

This new collection of short, powerful essays and poetry took me by surprise, nevertheless. I found myself moved to tears, uplifted, inspired, and even sometimes exalted as I read. 

I devoured "Tomatoes" in one sitting. These musings will inspire readers to look with new eyes at their own backyards and to dream of new ways to take action as peacemakers in our own communities. Something of a soul brother to the philosopher, scientist, writer, gardener and mystic, Rudolf Steiner (founder of the Waldorf School movement and of biodynamic gardening) 

Lemery truly believes in the inherent goodness and limitless potential of each person he meets. He is certain of the value of education as key to unlocking that potential. He understands that Nature can be our wisest and most gentle teacher and healer. These things shine through from these pages even as they illumine the hearts and paths of the young men whom Lemery befriends. 

Lemery's essays, like the parables of Jesus, are grounded in the most "ordinary" of human experiences: observations of plants and of birds, simple gestures of kindness offered to those who have been left wounded on the margins of life, zen-like questions about what we truly value. 

The most powerful essays are those where Lemery lets us enter his "secret garden" at the OYA. We are privileged to be there with him as he cooks, gardens, plays cards, laughs and sometimes cries with --but most of all listens to -- these young men, some of them serving long years in prison for offenses committed as juveniles. We are allowed to share Lemery's sorrow at how much betrayal, neglect and suffering too many children endure. 

And then we discover with him that seeds of Hope are miraculously still present, even in the dark, cold winter soil of these lives -- just waiting for the warmth of kind attention and rays of compassion in order to grow and to reach for the Light. This book encourages us to remember that we can each create something beautiful, something that will nourish others and ourselves, through the work of our own hands, provided we value and sharpen our unique gifts that are our "garden tools."

Highly recommended for teens, teachers, counselors, parents, social workers, book groups...and, of course, gardeners!

Homegrown Tomatoes is available as an e-book on Amazon.

Mundane Tasks

                       

            It was a busy day in the prison garden on a hot day.  We took on a few weedy flower beds and set to work, creating several wheelbarrow loads of weeds, and unburied dozens of flowers and herbs from the lush growth of summertime weeds.  They had gotten a head start on us with stretches of warm weather and summer showers.

            Our work was made lighter by the telling of stories and knowing that fresh shortbread and warm rhubarb and strawberry sauce with ice cream awaited us at the end of the class time. The teacher always has a way of motivating the crew.

            At the end of the first hour, we stored our tools, dumped our weeds and washed up for our next activity: flower arranging.

            I saw looks of skepticism on the faces of our young gardeners as one of the other volunteers brought out the floral arranging bases and foam blocks.  Soon, their hesitant looks turned serious, as they began to plan their individual works of art. Once again, the gardening class offered something new and exciting, challenging them to use their talents and grow their skills.

            The young gardeners were busied themselves fashioning their own arrangements from the piles of shrubs, herbs, and mid summer flowers.   They put their individual touches to their work, and soon, there was a lovely selection of beautiful flower arrangements in the center of the table. 

            Even the most hesitant young florist immersed himself into the project.  Conversations and questions about texture, color wheels and flower selections filled the air as they set to work. 

            The hoop house, our schoolroom, filled with many of their propagated works, became a florist shop, and our focus could turn to our mid morning snack.  The just baked shortbread and freshly simmered strawberry-rhubarb sauce filled our noses with delight, and we quickly formed a line to create our own culinary delight. The promise of ice cream in the morning also enticed us.

            Our plates filled, we gathered around the fire circle, and fell into relaxed conversations. I caught up with their challenges and successes, both in the garden and in their lives.  Proudly, they showed me their vegetables and flowers, their chickens, their compost, and the new additions to their garden.

            Our time grew short and I gathered up the plates and forks, and the glasses that had been drained of the special iced mochas that quenched our thirst this August day.

            I started washing the dishes and was soon joined by a young man who offered to help. He didn't want me to take on the task, saying that it was a boring, mundane thing for me to do.

            "Oh, I rather like it," I said.  "Washing dishes gives me time to do some thinking, organizing my day and planning ahead.

            "I get necessary work done, and I also get some 'me' time," I said.

            “I enjoyed the weeding this morning for the same reason,” I added.

            He nodded, his ears taking in a new idea on what he had said was a minor task, not worthy of my time.

            "It's not a minor thing," I said, "Cleaning up helps everyone, and builds community.  Every job is important."

            He nodded.

            "I guess so," he said.  "I never thought of it that way."

            "I see what you mean," he said. "Even though it doesn't seem like an important job, it really is."

            Our time was up. Class was over and he needed to go.

            "I'll finish this up," I said.  "I promise not to have too much fun."

            He laughed.

            "Do some thinking for me, then," he said.

            We grinned at each other, building another bridge between the old guy gardening guy who comes here once a week, and the young man, whose garden of his soul grows well in the springtime of his life.

Veraison

                                    

This year early

The first blush of color in the grapes signaling

Harvest is coming,

The seasons changing, the hint of crimson

orange in the leaves

Summer days shortening all too

Soon.

                        --Neal Lemery   8/8/16