We didn’t plan to grow a pumpkin this year. In fact, we did the opposite.
Last fall, we rolled our tired, sagging pumpkins down the hill behind the house, like we do every year — not with any gardening ambition, just with the thought that they’d be better off rotting out back than decaying on the front porch.
But a few weeks ago, we came home from church camp and noticed a leafy vine crawling up from a low, quiet spot near a tree stump in the side yard. My husband went to check it out and tucked beneath the shaded leaves was a small green pumpkin, swelling at the end of the vine. We hadn’t watered it, planted it, or cared for it in any way. We’d done absolutely nothing. And yet here it was — something beautiful, growing.
