I grew up in a small rural town. I remember going with my grandmother to deliver a wedding cake to a young couple. She made it from scratch in our humble kitchen. In exchange she was given three five-gallon buckets of fresh peas from the couple’s garden. We went home and shelled peas while watching Andy Griffith. I miss the two large fig trees in my back yard. People would come knock on our door and ask to pick them. My mother always gave them away for free. In return people would bring us fresh eggs or vegetables from their gardens. My mother worked at a garment factory, before those jobs were sent to other countries to exploit people in poverty. She lost her job twice and was provided an education in exchange. I was more than ready to move out of that dying town and make a better life for myself. After moving states and working for a soul crushing corporation, I found myself yearning for the days of my childhood. The community took care of each other. I tell everyone my grandmother is a saint. She was always active in the community. She would bring snacks and art projects to the community center for the kids. My grandmother taught me to understand the depth of humanity. How to understand and care for each individual. If someone made a bad decision, she didn’t judge them. She taught me to ask the why questions, and what happened to lead this person to make the choice. I feel like the culture of the day is all about self. People seem to be so consumed with one-upping each other. In my short thirty-seven years of life so much has changed. Corporations work us to death then discard us without care when we burn out. Women are having less children because they can’t afford them, and the condition of the world is unfavorable. I was told that If I work hard and go to college I will have a great life, but here I am mentally burn out and physically exhausted. I am letting go of the lies. I find my peace in family and nature. I trust the universe will gently guide me to where I need to be. This is a good start.
