Raspberries in October

What an incredible year we had for gardening in 2010.  Granted, we had our problems: 1. We had to outsmart the deer, who longed to feast on our garden rows. 2. We had to water copiously and frequently in our hot and dry summer. 3. We fought the Japanese Beetles and the leaf hoppers. I won't even talk about the weeds and the crab grass. But all of our efforts were richly rewarded.

The fall frosts came very late, so we saw amazing things that we rarely see in the state of Maine. For example, it is November 7th and we still have some little annuals in bloom along our front walk! Another example is that Andrea and Mike harvested MORE rhubarb in October than in the spring. And HERE you see my token crop of raspberries from new canes planted in the spring! I took this photo by a blueberry bush to show the colored foilage of fall appearing at the same time as my few raspberries.

These berries remind me of my childhood and the significance of harvest time for us. In the 1950s, the potato harvest was a great opportunity for the young people in our town to make money for our "school clothes".  We started school in late August and after about three weeks of classes, we were dismissed for approximately three weeks to help with the annual harvest of the tubers. It was hard, hard work. But we were paid 25 cents for each barrel we picked. I was an average "picker" and made about $15 a day if I really pushed it! On the other hand, Aunt Carla was well coordinated and picked 100 barrels and more a day. I could never figure out how she could pick those things up with two hands in motion. I always had one hand on the basket handle and the other hand was used to scoop up potatoes.

Our reward for the back-breaking work was to go shopping and pick out a winter coat and boots and some outfits to make us feel dressed up. This was a ritual that we and nearly all of our peers held every September. Farmers depended on us for the help and we depended on the pay that they provided to us every week.

Besides working in the potato harvest, I had other agricultural duties: picking raspberries, strawberries, and string beans. I pulled mustard and other weeds from the potato fields for 50 cents an hour! My favorite job during harvest was to cut broccoli. We got a whopping $1 a bushel for cutting Uncle Merle's broccoli. One year the pests were bad and we picked larvae from broccoli crowns and threw them into little cans of kerosene that were collected and ignited at the end of the day. This was necessary because shipments of broccoli failing the acceptable larva count were rejected at the processing plant. THAT was a devastating outcome. Except for the potato harvest, most of my farm employment was for Uncle Merle.

Oh, boy, was Uncle Merle a strict boss! He would inspect our rows to be certain no produce was left behind. And he would inspect our containers to be certain we were not picking produce that wasn't mature enough. When we were found doing something wrong, he would tell us about it and demonstrate the correct method. I hated to be found doing something sub-optimal in his fields. Sometimes Mom was our field inspector and that was even worse. We liked the money, though, and I was even known to pull weeds in the rain (which Mom definitely did NOT appreciate).

I look at my wrinkled and aging hand and am reminded that one of these days God is going to consider me ready for the harvest. When He takes me to my Heavenly home, it won't have anything to do with age, really. Some people die very young. Others enjoy a long life -- some with excellent health, others with poor health.

Grandchildren and other loved ones, I am ready to meet Jesus. I'm not perfect, but I am a sinner saved by grace. I'm born into God's family because of what my PERFECT and holy Lord Jesus Christ has done for me. He has forgiven my sin and welcomed me into God's forever family.

From now until it is my turn to go to Heaven, the thing I want to do most is to be the person that God created me to be. I want to live a holy life and honor the Lord in what I do and what I say. I'm a work in progress! Have you ever heard the little song that says something like this: "He's still working on ME, to make me what I ought to BE. It took Him just a week to make the moon and the stars, the earth and the sun and Jupiter and Mars. How LOVING and patient He must be, for He's still working on ME."

Grandchildren and other loved ones: I am praying that YOU will know the joy of living in a close, personal relationship with Jesus. That makes the happiest possible life here on the earth and gives a hope for a wonderful future with HIM for all eternity.