"Mom! Mom!" my girls frantically called to me from the office where they were busy doing their studies. "Some guy is here cutting our weeds down in the front yard with a chain saw!"
"What! Seriously?" I called back from the bathroom.
"And he's got 2 kids helping him!" They called to me.
"Huh? With a chainsaw? He's got 2 kids? Like teenagers or something?"
"No, two little boys like 3 and 4 years old."
"Who is he? Do you recognize him?"
"No!" they called back.
I hurried from the bathroom so I could see for myself what was going on. I just couldn't picture a random guy slashing down our weeds with a chainsaw and 2 little preschoolers with him. What in the world was going on? I knew our weeds were thick and looked horribly bad, but I didn't hire anyone to start cutting them down.
My nerves were electric, being home alone with my 2 kids, and a stranger with a chainsaw in my front yard. I went into a room where I couldn't be seen, and I cautiously pulled back the corner of the shade from the window so no one could see me but that I could spy on the strangers.
There they were. A large man dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a cowboy hat, and 2 young boys trailing him. The "chainsaw" was actually a weed whacker with a blade attachment (can't expect my kids to know what a power tool for the yard looks like, since we've never owned any). Lloyd (my cowboy neighbor up the road) was the man the girls didn't recognize, and he was cutting down our front yard weed forest while his 2 grandkids were piling up the debris behind him. I was stunned. I was shocked. And, most definitely, I was happy.
Those weeds have caused me all kinds of grief, so much so that I got a bid to see what it would cost to have someone clear them off for us. The bid came back and it was going to cost $1000 for a crew to clear the land and haul them off. It's not worth that. We had decided a few days earlier that we were going to wait until all the weeds died off, then rake them into piles and burn them, like we've done every year for the past 6 years since we've built this house. It would be ugly until then, but it would be what we could afford.
Then, this angel in blue jeans shows up and gets to work. I know this neighbor. I go to church with him. I know he's a good man and I know he hasn't had it easy. He isn't supposed to even be alive according to doctors. I remember a few years back when he got the prognosis from doctors that his cancer was bad and he had 6 months to live. He went through treatments and got so weak and sick. And now, I know his battle continues, but he's beating down more than his cancer, here he is whacking down my weeds.
It brought tears to my eyes.
I composed myself, and went outside to talk to him. He mentioned that he saw my mom at the hospital where she works and asked her if I'd be offended if he and a few others helped us clear off our weeds. My mom knows me well and she knows how much it pains me to see my yard go to weeds every year. She broke down into tears and told him to just do it.
I'm sure glad they had that conversation.
I profusely thanked him and his grandkids for their kindness, they really have no idea just how much their service and sacrifice has brought joy to me.
Brother Lloyd, as we call him, mentioned to me that he was just getting a head start, and that a few others from the Sunday School would be coming the next evening to finish the job. Let me tell you, this was no easy job. No normal weed whacker could whip through these desert weeds. They are like cutting down little trees, and my yard was their happy place where generations have thrived for years. Their roots run deep. Like to China.
Later that morning, I snapped a few pictures of the weeds in our backyard, so I'd be able to see a before and after. I love a good before and after, don't you?
|Can you find our little fenced-in Wild West garden? It's pretty hard to trail through the weeds to get there.|
Then, Friday evening came, and when my family pulled up to our house, we couldn't even get in the driveway, there were trucks parked all around it. There was a mess of weeds piled high in the back of 2 truck beds and a 2 trailers. I could see the ground in my front yard again, and there were sweaty, red-faced angels breathing heavily and working rakes and pitchforks, ranging in age from 4 years old to 60plus.
It brought warmth to my heart to see all those hard-working people. As I looked around, I noticed Brother Lloyd was there with his 2 grandkids again. Three other men in their 60s were there- one with a pitchfork, stiffly pitching weeds into a truck trailer, another with his face redder than I've ever seen it, holding a tool that actually did resemble a chainsaw at the end of a long handle, and another on his hands and knees, yanking weeds up out of the hard dirt. I couldn't believe they were there to help out! Then, there was a family of 6 from up the road, each one of them with their own rake and gloves slaving away. They were all lifesavers! My family got our work clothes on, and got to work alongside them and realized just how hard it was to get those weeds out. There are mansions in heaven for my weed-pulling angels! It was a relief when our friend pull his tractor up and mowed everything down, and then tilled it all up.
The crew worked until after the sun went down, and even a little the next morning! I cannot express just how happy I am! This soft dirt was beyond anything I was expecting. Just look at the glorious weedless dirt!
I really live around some of the kindest, most generous people you will ever meet. In our church we are like family, so we call everyone "sister" or "brother." Well, a sister invited me to her garden to gather some of her tomatillos and while I was there, she gave me these gorgeous beets.
Another sister I was visiting with up the road sent me home some of her rosemary and oregano.
Tuesday Garden Party