Summer of Gardening

Topic Sentence When I was 12, I spent a summer tending a garden, and it changed me for the better. My stepmother had seen enough of me playing video games during my free time, so she volunteered me to help build a community garden near our apartment. "Not a chance," I protested, but it was no use. My first day on the job, I met Mrs. Walters, the tiny old woman who organized the garden. "Get your gloves on, and get to work," she commanded me and the other volunteers. Body Sentences The lot where we were to build the garden was a mess. It took a week to clear out all the old tires, fast-food wrappers, empty bottles, and other trash. Once that was done, we dug plots for the garden. Each night I came home with an achy back and blistered hands, but the garden started to take shape. We eventually dug 15 plots. Soon, more volunteers showed up, and we built fences, tilled soil, and laid seed. By the end of summer, we had one heck of a garden. I felt proud each time a new tomato, cucumber, pepper, or carrot sprouted from our garden. Ending Sentences That summer taught me to value fresh air, fresh food, and hard work.

Growing in a Garden

Attention Grabber“Well, don’t just stand there. Grab a shovel, and let’s get going,” Mrs. Walters bellowed at me. In her mind, that was Gardening 101. In my mind, it was a lousy beginning to my twelfth summer. Like it or not, my stepmother had volunteered me to help out with a community garden that was being built in an abandoned lot next to my apartment complex. She thought I spent “too much time playing video games” and needed “fresh air and new experiences.” She had no idea what she had gotten me into.

Rising ActionWe actually started working on the garden before summer break. In May, I went down to apartment 3G to meet Mrs. Walters, the woman who organized the garden. I was met at the door by a tiny old woman with a long, white braid wrapped around her head about 10 times. Her hair looked like a fancy cake. Dialogue“Our first job is to clean up that lot,” she said as she shoved a pair of thick canvas gloves into my hands. “Here. We don’t want you to hurt those precious video-game-playing hands!” Obviously, she was in cahoots with my stepmother.

Under Mrs. Walters’ critical watch, a bunch of other kids and I cleaned out the trash from the vacant lot. We found old tires, broken toys, fast-food containers, and bottle caps. That took a week. Then we started to dig. Fifteen garden plots later, we had the makings of a garden.

Thought DetailsOver the weeks, more people got involved. We all worked together to build fences around the plots and make a compost pile. We put down natural fertilizers. Mrs. Walters even ordered a case of earthworms. We dumped the whole squirmy mess all over the garden and then kept watch to make sure the birds didn’t eat the worms.

Finally, it got warm enough to plant seeds and tiny plants. We put little cages around the tomato plants and tied string to stakes so that the peas and other climbing plants had somewhere to go. I jumped into action every time Mrs. Walters barked out an order. I used certain freckles on my hands and arms to measure how much the plants grew each day. I’ve never told anyone this, but the day that I saw the first tiny, hard, green tomato, I kind of got a lump in my throat. “Look what we did,” I said to Mrs. Walters. “Look what nature did, silly,” she replied.

Critical MomentBy the end of the summer, we had started to sell our vegetables at a local produce stand. I actually had helped create something that other people wanted to buy! I might never share Mrs. Walter’s diehard commitment to gardening, but I do admire it.

Lessons LearnedAnd now I understand the value of “fresh air and new experiences.” Most of all, I found out that veggies from a grocery store just don’t taste as good as the ones we grow ourselves in our little neighborhood lot.