Jugs And Fertilizer

This year, I bought my hanging baskets at another place.
I have passed this greenhouse whenever I am in the place of Amish buggies.
This was the year I decided to visit.
It was not my usual place but I was ready to try something new.

I remember the day I went to the greenhouse.
I drove there almost on autopilot.
I knew I had to pay close attention as I got closer.
I wanted to make sure I turned down the correct road.

I pull into the gravel parking lot.
Everything around me was colorful and extremely neat.
I had been here years ago when there was just a greenhouse and the family’s home.
Now the family home has grown, since their family grew as well.

The property is owned by a wonderful Mennonite family with five children.
The last time I visited, the wife was expecting her fifth child.
They have beautiful gardens all around their home.
They even have animals that children can visit through the fence.

It is a place that makes you take a deep breath s you soak it all in.
It is a place that quietly says, Slow down.
I was there in early spring when everyone is doing their planting.
Large carts are available on which you can place all your plants.

My cart was full as I purchased plants for my porch, my deck, and the front of my house.
I even found a whimsical rooster that has found its permanent home on my garden bench.
As I was making my choices, I talked to one of their daughters.
I walked towards the back of the greenhouse.

The father was busy with customers.
An older son was sliding hanging baskets on a system of poles they have installed.
It was an ingenious way to move hanging baskets from the growing area to the front.
I watched him slide the baskets effortlessly from one end to the other.

I had a question about one particular plant.
The older son was so helpful.
I saw what looked like a nozzle of a gasoline tank in the back of the greenhouse.
A sign, which said, Zach’s jugs, was hanging above some empty milk crates.

What is all this? I asked the older son, pointing to the sign.
Oh, that’s my brother’s business, he answered.
He sells milk jugs for our fertilizer, he said and noticed that the mild crates were empty.
I was still pondering what all this meant as he went to get his brother.

Within minutes, I was meeting the youngest child.
I’m Zach, he said with a wide smile.
Zach is about 11 years old.
I marveled that it had been this long since I visited.

Zach wore jeans and a plaid shirt with a straw hat on his head.
He had suspenders with horses on them.
Tell me about your business, I said to Zach.
I sell milk jugs for $1.00 each and you can fill them with our fertilizer, he explained.

You make the fertilizer? I asked him, wanting to know.
We do; it’s all natural, it makes sure the pH of your soil is what is should be.
Looking around at the impeccable gardens and farmland, I knew he was right.
The family grows their own plants; their growing process is astounding.

You can have as much as 12 gallons each visit for free, he explained.
The jugs cost $1.00 but then you can bring them back and fill them again.
I bought seven jugs since that is all he brought from the back.
I filled each of them with the liquid, organic fertilizer.

I have been faithful to fertilize all my plants.
I use two gallons of fertilizer each week.
My plants are full and lush, with many blooms.
I know they would not look this lovely without the fertilizer.

I finished my last two gallons and needed to go back for more.
Since I am still wearing my wrist splint, I knew that I could not squeeze the nozzle.
I saw Zach as soon as I parked my car.
Do you think you could help me today? I asked him, holding up my left wrist.

Of course, he said with his wide smile.
I got a large cart on which I placed my seven empty jugs.
Somehow, Zach got to the back of the greenhouse ahead of me.
He meticulously took each jug and filled it with the organic fertilizer.

I bought another one so I would have eight jugs, which should last me a month.
Do I give you the money or should I pay at the register? I asked him.
Whatever you want to do, he said as he filled the last jug.
I got out my wallet and paid him significantly more than the cost of all the jugs.

Thank you, he said with an ever widening smile.
He folded the money and put it in his shirt pocket.
He walked towards his father.
He got out a ledger book and entered the number of gallons and the amount of cash.

The little boy, who was not even born the last time I visited, is now a business man.
The extra payment seemed to make his day.
He told me he has suppliers. and has to go and collect the empty jugs.
He takes his business quite seriously.

I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. (1 Corinthians 3:6)

This family loves the Lord.
I thought about planting seeds and growing flowers.
I thought about the amount of watering that is necessary to keep them so beautiful.
I thought about the fertilizer that makes the soil good for growth.

The Seed of the Gospel is planted in a heart.
The Seed is watered with the Word of God.
The Seed is fertilized with solid preaching and teaching.
Over time, there is hope for a harvest.

The Seed germinates.
The roots go down deep.
That Seed is watered with the Word.
God makes the faith grow and flourish.

Only God can make faith grow.
And to think I only went to the greenhouse for fertilizer.