. . .Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. - Matthew 6:28-29 I learned to garden at my father’s knee in the plot he had placed next to the path that led to our kitchen doorstep. Handed a Dixie cup with precious seeds, I was taught to poke my index finger in the dirt and draw a straight line in which to make a bed. Sometimes the Dixie cup would have