Brianna Saves the Seedlings

Yesterday at about noon, a small disaster struck. The wind was beginning to gust quite strongly, as a spring storm seemed to be blowing in. My mini-greenhouse on the porch had been weighted down on the bottom, but apparently not enough. It blew over with a crash, sending my heart crashing with it. Buried in piles of dirt and overturned flats were 2 - 3 week old tomato, broccoli and parsley seedlings -- all of the plants of those varieties that I had hoped to cultivate this summer. To complicate matters, I had not used flats with individual growing cells. All of the seedlings were growing side by side in one non-divided tray of soil.

I surveyed the mess with dismay. The greenhouse had fallen onto it's front, with the zip-up opening against the floor. Potting soil was everywhere and there was no way to limit the further damage that would be done when the greenhouse was righted again. My husband tried to be optimistic. "They can be replanted. They're all there." I was not so easily comforted. I could only see the trauma of my poor little baby plants, and think about the wasted weeks of germination and growth that must now begin again, delaying the harvest beyond what I had hoped. I mentally checked my seed stock and wondered if I had enough left over. I thought with a hint of bitterness of how much money would be wasted if I needed to buy all my seedlings from someone else rather than using my own (already paid for) seed. "They *can't* be replanted!" I snapped. "This is too much trauma for them -- they won't recover!" The thought of even trying seemed too much. My day was already overloaded with tasks that couldn't wait.

Brianna came out to see what had happened. She had helped plant and care for the seedlings. She was concerned, but calm. She stepped in close to survey the damage. "Mommy, I think we could save most of them. Their roots are still mostly in the soil, so we could put them in those paper pots we made. If we do it right now, they might live!" A few weeks earlier, Brianna and a friend had made seedling pots out of newspaper. I later decided to use the undivided flats instead, but I had not yet disposed of the pots, thinking I might yet find a use for them. Shooting down my husband's optimism had been easy (sorry Sweetie!) but with my child, it was different. She was already taking charge of the situation -- running to get the pots, triaging the seedlings. How could I discourage such initiative? And why should I? Her confidence made me take another, more objective look at the situation. I saw that she might be right.

My husband and Alexander left for preschool, but Brianna and I threw ourselves into the rescue mission. In the end, we re-potted 27 seedlings. We saved many of the tomatoes, a decent fraction of the broccoli, and none of the parsley, which had only *just* germinated and were too tiny to be saved. Time will tell how many of the 27 survive, but as of last night, they were looking quite well. It was a highly satisfying endeavor for us, and a bonding experience as well. I owe Brianna a debt of gratitude for reminding me that things are seldom as bad as they seem in the moments immediately following a mishap. Her sense of optimism about saving the seedlings may have been child-like, but it was not" childish". When it was all over and we were cleaning the dirt from our fingernails, I thanked her. She just gave a small smile, but I could tell she was pleased and proud of herself. I hope she remembers that feeling for a long time. I hope it helps her persevere in future situations. And when she forgets, I hope she has a child in her life who can help her remember.