“To dig one's spade into one's own earth—has life anything better to offer than this.” B. Nichols
“I wake up every morning, go outside
to touch my garden—to feel it's leaves—to smell it's flower's--
to water and nurture—this is what makes me happy.” These are the
words of my good friend Leah!
The day I walked past her house and
garden, my mouth dropped in awe. Have I seen more beautiful, lush
gardens before, absolutely, but there was something uniquely special
in this land—something spiritual from someone's soul that grabbed
me into stillness. Moments later, the most beautiful woman came to
open the gate saying, “you are welcome.” She somehow got that I
saw “her being” through her garden. Taking a good look into her
eyes, and without words, we began walking her land. Green beer
bottles were used for borders, old tires were painted which graced
the entrance way, and used for decoration around plants and trees,
sticks and limbs of trees were carefully placed for seating or for
dramatic backdrops for other greenery, and stones, both large and
small, were situated in a fen-shui manner—some were painted, others
not—but there in her garden was a poetic and mysterious feeling of
serenity and joy. The entire ambiance, and the nature of this woman
was pleasing to the eye, and pleasing to the soul—It was, indeed, a
piece of heaven! Thanking her, I left as quietly and as in awe as I
came in.
Her name is Leah—biblical and
beautiful! In the weeks to come, we slowly became friends. My
admiration for what she has created made her laugh at times, but as
our friendship grew, she invited me into her humble home, where
again, I was stopped by the magic in her creation of bringing nature
into one single room. Baskets and weavings from Zimbabwe, sticks
that she made into works of art, skeleton parts from animals—all
fit into an assembly that a museum would be proud to display. It was
on this day that Leah put her hands to her heart and said, “I have
very little, but I have my art, and my garden—nobody can take that
away, so I guess I have a lot!” Not yet knowing her story, I knew
that all her hurts were healed through her creation here.
Leah grew up in a family of 5 children
with loving parents. She did not attend a University, nor was she
encouraged to do something with her life. She did, however, receive
love from her family which has given her the inner fortitude to
combat whatever came her way. As a child, Leah would create things
with rocks or painting—saying that she knew then that she had God
given talent. At 26 years of age, Leah married, having 4 children of
her own, though it was a brutal marriage, and a rough divorce. She
came back to Mmathethe with nothing, and told me that her garden used
to be more beautiful, but having left for several years due to the
divorce, things fell apart. Now she is rebuilding her garden and her
soul. Looking at her, she seems to know who she is, what her
relation to the world is, and what to expect of it. Most others
would have damaged psyche's from the stress, but not Leah—she had
her talent, and her garden, to pull her through the rough times!
Willingly, Leah tells me that Africa is
in her soul, and that she's proud to be an African. I ask her why
that was, and looking up, she points and says, “there's art in our
skies,” “people come from all over the world to see our nature,
and our animals—yes indeed, I am very proud to be an African.” I
then asked her if she were to pick anywhere in the world to visit,
where would that be—Paris. Of course an artists' mind would pick
Paris, even though she had never even heard of the Louvre, but with
that, Leah put her arm through mine, and we pretend to be walking the
narrow cobblestone streets of the left bank, sitting at a cafe having
an espresso and croissant, beeming at the sight of the Mona Lisa,
watching people as we sit on the steps of Notre Dame, and walking
along the Sienne—admiring the lined statues, and in the distance,
admiring the strength of the Eifle Tower. I was her eyes for our
stroll through Paris, and her own eyes were filled with wonder for a
moment in time. “But Tshepo, I will always come back to Africa!”
“And you should Leah---to your own museum!”
After our trip to Paris, I took many
photos of Leah's 3 daughters and 3 grandchildren who have been
visiting for the holidays. Showing the photos to them on the
computer was a thrill in itself. Somehow Africans go crazy for
seeing photos! Later that afternoon, Leah called me, “Tshepo, look
outside at the clouds—can you take a picture of them?” “Sure
Leah, I'd be glad to photograph any art you see.” I looked outside
to see huge cumulous clouds with bursts of sunshine in the vast
skies, and through my lens, I sought to capture what Leah saw.
“Kiss of the sun for pardon,
Song of the birds for mirth.
You're closer to God's heart in a garden
Than anyplace else on earth.” D.F. Gurney
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