The tomato harvest…..

THE TOMATO HARVEST

In all the 40-plus years that I have been visiting the 40 acre farm in Albion, PA, one thing has remained constant.  That is, the garden.  Our first visit back in the 1980’s found my young children hiding in the rows of corn and learning about carrots growing beneath the soil. 

 It was a lot of work, creating that garden patch.  The trickiest part was the timing; to know when the last frost had threatened and when the rains would not wash away seeds or young sprouting plants.  Most years, the gardener won; other times, nature tipped the scales. We monitored the progress on our frequent trips, seeing the corn ripen and the cucumbers vine around and sneak past the garden’s boundaries.  We picked green and yellow beans, dug potatoes in the fall, and watched to see how huge the pumpkins would grow before they broke free from the stems.

Although the kids preferred the corn and the carrots, my favorite always was, and still is, the tomato.  The tiny plants would be nursed in mini containers inside under a heat lamp, started in late winter, and be cautiously transplanted when the spring sun would be sure to warm them sufficiently.

 I still travel to Albion to visit my mom and step dad as frequently as schedules and weather allows, and taking the garden walk is still part of the experience.  Since my mom’s touch had been added, along with the ‘truck patch’, flower beds blossom in profusion where once flat, even fields lay silent and green.  So many times, my ride home included diggings or cuttings or bounty from their gardens, and many plants are growing happily in the Greensburg sun.

But after a while, since those mid-1980’s, Father Time has taken its toll on the energy and exuberance of step-father John.  The once-enormous vegetable garden has diminished considerably, with only a few meager offering now springing from the narrow furrows.  The last trip north, I walked with them to the garden to view the one tangled cucumber vine, a few thinned bean sprouts, and some marigolds to keep the rabbits away.

 Ah, but there were still tomatoes!  In a huge garden ‘box’, purchased and constructed for that exact purpose (including a watering tube and a reservoir underneath), thrived a number of beautiful, tall, healthy tomato plants.  Jetstar, I was informed, as I gazed on the lovely sight.  Even the fragrance of the dark green leaves, yellow bell-like blossoms, and marble-sized green nubs drew me in. They couldn’t ripen fast enough for me!

 This past weekend, I was again on the farm, and spent three days with my parents. As we were packing the car to come home, John asked me if I would eat the first ripe tomato from his box garden if he picked it.

“I’d love that! I love tomatoes! But are you sure you want to sacrifice your first crop?”

 “Sure. It’s ripe enough to pick, but let it sit on the window sill for a day or two in the sun before you slice it. I’ll walk out and get it for you.”

 John took his cane, and his 94 years, and went to the garden for my tomato. I carefully padded and packed that tomato into my bag for the long trip back to Greensburg. It would be tomorrow night’s dinner.

 Now, there are undoubtedly lots of ways to grow a garden. Tilling the soil, planting, watering, weeding, harvesting. Setting out scarecrows or aluminum pie pans to ward off nibblers. All of these things are very important.

But the most important way to grow and harvest a garden is with love. And that tomato – perfect color and taste! – was the best gift of love that I’ve had in a very long time. And let me tell you that nothing could taste better.