By Linda Mastro
“…every gardener is an apprentice of the good Gardener of creation. Gardening teaches us that we belong to nature and are also responsible for it. Human culture and nature’s destiny are inextricably intertwined. What we add to nature can contribute to its well-being, as well as our own.” ~ Vigen Guroian in Inheriting Paradise, page 61.
Every month the Bon Secours Associates of Marriottsville meet to pray and discuss a topic that inspires us to live the Bon Secours charism of healing, compassion, and liberation more fully. Associate Katy Stanton, a writer and professor, led our July gathering with the theme Tending the Garden. She and her husband, Tim, volunteer at the Bon Secours Urban Farm and Community Garden in West Baltimore.
Katy framed our conversation with one of the commitments that the Congregation of the Sisters of Bon Secours made at their 2024 chapter meeting: “To care for the environment, in ways that contribute to the greater ecological and sustainability of our mother earth. We will be caregivers of our common home, and we will live as peace makers.”
To begin our conversation, Katy invited us to share a place in nature that has importance to us. The first place that came to my mind was the beach. On vacation I always rise early and walk to the shore to watch the sun rise over the ocean. This daily phenomenon never fails to evoke awe. Every sunrise is different as the sun throws its light across the surface of the water and changes shape with the clouds in the sky.
My imagination also took me to Iona, a small island off the west coast of Scotland. This dot of land in the Atlantic Ocean is three miles long and one-and-a-half miles wide. The population of the island ebbs and flows during the day as visitors arrive by ferry. By sunset, when the last ferry pushes away from the dock, a hush hovers over Iona. Water, land, and the resident sheep create a pastoral scene that changes with the light of day. The quiet holds space for inner musing accompanied by bird call and ocean waves lapping the shore.
Several people shared that their favorite place in nature is also one of mine – the 300-acre campus of the Bon Secours Retreat & Conference Center in Marriottsville, Maryland. I have been going to the Retreat Center for more than 25 years. Every time I pull off the main road onto the hilly driveway that leads to the grounds, I feel my breathing slow down. Trees, shrubs, and ground cover that reflect the season of the year welcome me home.
As I pondered what I wanted to share with my Associate friends about an important place in nature, I looked out of the window of my office where I was Zooming into our monthly meeting. I saw the sanctuary that I have been cultivating for almost 20 years. My small backyard is cluttered with an ever-growing collection of roses, herbs, hydrangeas, hostas, black-eyed Susans, and coneflowers that thrive in the heat of an Eastern Shore summer. Many of my perennials were gifts from friends. Others are native specimens that I purchased from a local arboretum and a few survivors from the Lowes intensive care discount rack. As each specimen blooms and multiplies and as others fall prey to bugs and poor growing conditions, I think of the generous gardeners who shared a piece of their bounty with me. I learn about patience — not one of my strong suits — as I wait to see what takes hold and what withers away.
I was surprised to see a few gladiolas that survived the feasting of the squirrels, who think that I plant bulbs for their dining pleasure. Amid all that I planted, I saw weeds. Lots and lots of weeds. In the heat of July these uninvited visitors have more stamina than the more delicate and deliberately planted perennials and annuals. Some weeds are shallow and easy to pull; others take up deep-rooted residency and require a shovel to remove them. One particularly impertinent weed mimics a corn stalk, and one of the heartier volunteers even sent out a mini cob ruffled with strands of silk.
Squirrels, an assortment of birds, and neighbor cats use my garden sanctuary as a playground and feeding station. They are all welcome. I am much less hospitable when it comes to mosquitoes. These annoying biters top the list of reasons why I hesitate to spend time in the garden. I must spray myself from head to toe with the most unpleasant products just to run the mower over my few yards of grass.
My solution this year was to have a back porch built onto my house. I will still have to venture out into the wild of the yard to tend to garden chores. Now, though, I will have a protected place where I can relax and take in the fruits of my labor… and nurse my mosquito bites.
These musings remind me of Rumi’s poem “The Guest House.” The poem begins,
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
Rumi lists the range of guests that visit our homes:
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
The poem ends with this instruction:
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
Unlike the beach, Iona, Marriottsville, and so many other beautiful places that I have visited, my home garden reflects real life. It requires almost constant work and gives back so much, season to season. I can overlook its imperfections because I have invested in its shape, content, successes, and duds. It is a living testament to the kind of faith I must have as a garden tender and as a child of God. Faith requires more than wishful thinking. What I want to cultivate — in the garden and in my relationships — requires attention and patience. Not everything I imagine will prosper. And I am surprised daily by the gifts that come my way when I let life grow and flow.
I think of Dorothy, who returning home from Oz appreciates that there is no place like home. Yes, there are more beautiful places where nature shows her stuff. Yet, there is no place more worth the tending than the heart and soul of my own backyard.
REFLECTION: Continue your own reflection on the theme of tending the garden with these questions that Katy Stanton offers:
- What does it mean to tend God’s garden?
- Does this metaphor of gardening spark any new ideas for you?
- What actions could you take to bring healing and renewal to what God has created and put in your hands?
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LINDA MASTRO is a graduate and on the faculty of the Bon Secours Spiritual Direction Institute in Marriottsville, MD. She is also an Associate of Bon Secours. Linda is a spiritual companion for individuals and groups. She brings a spirit of compassion and light-heartedness to her work as a women’s retreat facilitator, pilgrimage leader, and workshop guide. Linda is co-author of the book Petite Retreats: Renewing Body, Mind, and Spirit without Leaving Home. Learn more about Linda at livingpilgrimage.com.
KATY STANTON is an Associate of Bon Secours, a published author, and a professor of writing at McDaniel College. Here latest novel, Around the Corner, tells the story of a Baltimore neighborhood, where the Sisters of Bon Secours began their US ministry in 1881. In this piece of historical fiction, readers meet a set of characters who, across generations, find ways to support one another and fight back against disease, poverty, and despair.
Learn more about the ASSOCIATES OF BON SECOURS at bonsecours.us/associates/about-us.