Who’s the King of Your Garden?

The tomato said with a face rosy red, “I’m the queen of the whole garden bed, so tart and delicious, most everyone wishes on my juicy meat to be fed.”

Said the onion so strong, “You couldn’t go wrong to partake of my elements rare, with such a sweet savor I give a rich flavor so all who might wish me may share.”

Said the carrot so yellow, “I’m a popular fellow, at present I’m having my day! My elements mild are so good for a child, they make him rosy and gay.”

The cabbage head from the same garden bed said, “I’m bursting to have my say: so crisp and so white, with flavor just right, I’m fit for a king any day.”

The corn pricked his ears and said, “Listen my dears! I have heard every word you have said. For I am so tall, I look down on you all – I’m the king of the whole garden bed!” The celery said, “Look! Here comes the cook. We’ll let her wise judgment decide which one she may choose – the rest of us lose.”

“Fair enough! We agree!” they all cried. The cook came along with a smile and a song -- the vegetables she viewed as a group. She cut and she sliced with her sharp paring knife, and they all went into the soup.

I laughed when I first saw the poem, written by Leona Duggan and found in one of my many cookbooks. However, the more I pondered the words, the more I realized those vegetables are just like us humans. Anytime we get to thinking we’re more important than others, we need to stop and consider the soup. We’re all in this together. We each may have a little different “seasoning” or “aroma” to offer humanity, but none is more important in the eyes of our Maker than the other. (Good food for thought, if you’ll pardon the pun.)

Since gardens are producing quite bountifully here in the High Country, we’ve got to keep busy with ways to use those mouth-watering vegetables. Pickling and preserving, corn and casseroles, peach dumplin’s and cobblers, ‘maters and ‘taters are just a few of the things we’ll be sharing in the weeks ahead.

Happy gardening, unless you’re like me, and the deer and groundhogs are eating your beans and corn and something mysterious has killed your cukes. But thanks to my sister, Gail, in Crossnore, and our good neighbor, Scott, who walks past the house every morning and sees what pitiful shape we’re in, we’ve still been able to enjoy some tasty cucumbers!