The Invisible Garden

"Is this our garden?"

My younger son waited sincerely for the answer to his question. I glanced behind me at the leaf and rock filled pit where our swimming pool used to be and then at the mountains of dirt on our driveway. In all honesty, the area wasn't much of anything at the moment. Leaves, rocks, half-broken concrete pylons. Only a fool would look at the spot and call it a garden.

But my heart told me something different.

My heart whispers dreams of aromatic herbs and flowers, of red-ripe tomatoes, of nibbling succulent fruit and vegetables straight from the earth. My heart sees canned salsas, jams, and pickles lining the pantry in lovingly packed jars. It's busy planning gifts that can be shared with friends and neighbors. It sees all the things that could be -- even if they aren't there now.

"Yes, dear," I answered. "This is our garden."

*****

And now here is my secret, a very simple secret;
it is only with the heart that one can see rightly,
what is essential is invisible to the eye.

Antoine de Saint-Exupery (from the Little Prince)

From Russia, With Love

My present from Masha

Generally, I don't like accumulata, but I do keep a few very dear treasures. The napkin that you see pictured here is one of them.

It was 1994, and I was teaching at a private language school in Moscow. One of my favorite five-year-old students bounced into class. Masha's naturally fiery, intelligent eyes danced with excitement. She looked ready to pop.

"Yulia! Yulia! I have a present for you," she boasted happily as she pressed a colorful, printed paper napkin into my hands. Her face beamed, anticipating my surprise and pleasure.

It might not seem like much to an American, but it was a big deal to little Masha. Let me see if I can put the enormity of this gift into perspective for my readers by describing the paper goods available to the average Russian at that time.

• Paper towels. I never saw them.
• Paper napkins. McDonald's had them, and I spied some flimsy ones that looked like tissue paper at my favorite gyro "restaurant." (I use the term restaurant loosely for this particular establishment, but that's another day, another post.) However, I can't really think of very many others.
• Paper bags. Stores didn't carry them. They didn't provide plastic bags either. You either purchased a bag or brought your own. (Not a bad idea in my opinion.)
• Toilet paper. I observed five kinds. These are detailed below:
1. Nonexistent. In public toilets, this type was most commonly encountered.
2. Shreds of newspaper. A really thoughtful public toilet would provide yesterday's news for wiping. As you might have guessed, most people carried their own tissue paper with them.
3. The Revolting Red Paper. Frequently, homegoods stores carried what my ex-patriot friends referred to at the Revolting Red paper. It was rather stiff, but maybe a little more flexible than sheets from a child's drawing tablet. It was completely serviceable except for the off-putting red color which deepened into an even more unattractive hue after it had been... er, used. Of course, the upside to this TP was its even texture, unlike #4 on this list.
4. Tree Bark. It wasn't actually tree bark. It was a tannish, brown tissue that looked like ground and pressed tree bark -- complete with splinters. Squeezably soft Charmin it was not. Although our ex-pat group was of mixed opinions on the subject of TP, I still maintain that the "tree bark" was a step up from the red stuff.
5. Glorious White Paper. In terms of texture, it didn't differ much from Revolting Red, but it was white! This was the elusive, Holy Grail of bath tissue. I rarely saw it in the stores, but now and then I'd find some entrepreneur on a street corner with a whole pyramid of it piled on the sidewalk. Score!

As you can see, paper goods were of a completely pragmatic nature. Napkins didn't come in a rainbow of colors. They certainly weren't printed with every Disney character under the sun. While this napkin would have been a throwaway for an American child, for Masha, it was an object of wonder.

The generosity and thoughtfulness of her gift touched me deeply, and I keep it to remember one of my very favorite little people. But it also humbles me. It's a reminder to be grateful for all of my blessings, for all of the little things that are so easy to take for granted. Running water, sunshine on my face, ice cubes in a cold drink on a summer day... I could think of a million small wonders that I've done nothing to deserve but enjoy all the same. I am truly rich.

Self-portrait of Masha

The Dentist & the Wildcat

Took the kids to the dentist today for checkups. While my oldest and youngest children's exams passed uneventfully, my middle child fought like a wildcat the entire time. I'm not using hyperbole. Despite all the preparatory pep talks, he literally fought like a wildcat -- twisting, yowling, kicking, spitting, flailing -- the entire time. I actually had to sit on the feral little beast to keep him in the chair. (No cavities, btw -- Thank you, Jesus, because I don't think we could take a filling!)

Finally, when his cleaning and exam were over, and his brother was in the chair, my angry young tom furiously glared at the dentist and tech. He hissed, "I hate the dentists! Why can't we sell them?"

I attempted to explain some of the finer points relating to ownership and property, but I'm not completely sure he understood.

Later I relayed to my husband the difficult time I'd had and how driving down the road after the appointment, the tech had passed me and gave me the filthiest look imaginable. He positively cracked up. I'm delighted to be so amusing.

Of course, our small savage and I have been going back and forth all day. He's mad at me for sitting on him. Meanwhile, I've been lecturing him on oral hygiene and the necessity of cooperating with people who are trying to help.

So we're continuing to work on basics like his being comfortable when people are working in his mouth. We're also working on not being afraid of the instruments and so on. However, when we go back in December, if push comes to shove, I will happily sit on him all over again. Why? Because he needs clean teeth to be healthy. Because I will not let him get away with stuff even though it would make my life much easier. Because I'm his mom. I love him. That's what I do.

Happier days & a mouth full of chocolate
It's a miracle he doesn't have a single cavity.