On Pruning and Planning

Genadeo came to prune the trees today.  I wasn't expecting him.  I just found him in the orchard, on a ladder, wearing jeans, a sweater and some work gloves,  clearing over growth and taping tender branches.  

"I'm happy to see you," I said, my hand outstretched, as if he were an old friend and not a new acquaintance. "I'm Mariah.  We bought this house from our very good friends.  I think you remember them, they had a lot of children?"

He was already down from the ladder, removing his glove to shake my hand.  "I'm happy to know you.  I remember them," he said with a thick spanish accent and a broad smile.  You can't help but smile when you think of a family of 12.   "But they were not here last year.  No one was here.  And so, I didn't come.  But, today, I saw you were here, so I came to prune the trees."

"We ARE here, and will be for a long time.  My husband will be so glad you came."

He pointed to some trees outside of the orchard fence.  "You see those trees, they are not right." 

I looked at the aspen and pine growing at a steep slant.  

"I can tie chains to the aspen, pull it straight, fix it right.  I'll do it later, when it's a little warm. But, the pine, it's too late, I can't fix it." 

"Okay, well, if you can help the other one, we'd really appreciate it.  Call me and I will be sure we are here when it is time.  We'd love to help you," I said as I handed him a check for his labors.

"Okay, okay.  I'll finish these now." 

"Thank you, Genadeo.  This is a great gift."

That man has amazing faith, because while I'm sure my good neighbors pointed him our way, he and I have never met before.  How did he know I would pay him, that his work would be compensated and appreciated?  I thought about that when I left him to his work.

As I pulled away from the house I had so many questions and metaphors running through my mind.  When it is our turn to play gardener in our own lives, do we do the job properly? Do we cut back enough to encourage growth in the sparse areas of the tree, are we willing to sacrifice a co-dominant branch so that the better branch can strengthen and enhance the natural beauty of the tree?  Do we show up and work in the cold of the winter to ensure a harvest that is seasons away?

And, how often does the Master Gardener do work that goes unnoted, unpaid, unappreciated? Or, when it is noticed, how often do we complain about how much had to be cleared away, how long it took, how little difference it made in this year's yield?  

What if our plans for ourselves resemble the work of an experienced gardener.  Better yet, what if we partnered with the Master?  How much could we learn? What if at the new year, along with making grand plans for the fruits we want our garden to bear by the end of the growing season, we also spend time clearing away, making room, getting ready.  It takes faith to grow a garden, nurture an orchard, harvest a vineyard, just as it does to make goals and resolutions and plans.  Maybe, in life, just as in the garden, the first step to acting on that faith is pruning.