Most gardeners know every square inch of their gardening space like they know an old, faithful friend. We cultivate and love our soil, the plants that grow in it, the pollinators and wildlife it attracts, and of course the beauty and bounty it produces.
This time of year, when our gardens in the northern hemisphere are sleeping for the winter, I sometimes think about all dahlias that have passed through Steve’s and my hands and found their way into gardens like yours. Your gardens are all unique, and different from mine. I know our little corner of the world well, and I’ll likely never even visit yours… but somehow the grandbabies of our dahlias had a chance to grow and bring joy to you, in your lovely, cultivated places.
Steve and I feel so grateful to get to give our strength and time to the joyous occupation of sharing beauty. Over the years, we’ve had the privilege of getting hundreds of thousands of dahlia plants and tubers into the hands, hearts, and gardens of dahlia-lovers. That is a lot of beauty shared! Many of our customers have also shared their extra tubers with other gardeners, and the exponential distribution of dahlia beauty far away, in gardens I’ll never see, in places I’ll never know, is gloriously staggering to me.
My heart is extra-nostalgic about treasured memories and stories this time of year, and like most of you, there are certain stories that I love deeply.
Christmas Farm by Mary Lyn Ray is a particularly sweet children’s book that I first read to our oldest at the library when he was one. It tells the slow, beautiful story of a seasoned gardener named Wilma who is itching for a fresh planting plan. She decides to plant Christmas trees, and pulls in her 5-year-old neighbor to partner with her in the venture.
When I first read this book to my toddler, I saw in it a heart-warming, intergenerational farming story, but over the years it has taken on a deeper meaning for me.
We started Triple Wren Farms when our oldest was 4, the same year we started managing about 10 acres of apples for another farmer. As you might imagine, that Christmas when I read this story, the scope of the work involved in farming hit home at a whole new level. The beauty of growing flowers with our kids has been one of the richest parts of our farming experience, and Wilma’s joy in growing with her young sidekick resonated with me personally.
In 2018, we started selling our dahlia tubers in our online store, and our business began a slow-motion pivot that picked up speed in 2020 when it seemed like everyone started gardening while the world was shut down. I was entranced at the thought of our Triple Wren flowers thriving in so many gardens. That Christmas, this book held an even deeper meaning for me, as I read the author’s words, “Far away… in rooms they never saw, in places they never knew, five hundred and sixty-six trees that Wilma and Parker had grown wore lights and balls and tinsel in their branches – green balsam branches that smelled the sweet smell of Christmas.” (p. 32)
Tears always jump out of my eyes when I reach that point in the story, as I think of you enjoying the beauty of dahlias in your own gardens.
Now our oldest is a senior in high school, headed off soon on his own adventures (not unlike our dahlias!), and I am so excited to watch him bring joy and beauty to the people around him. Isn’t that a big part of what we’re all meant to do for each other?
As you walk through the beauty of this magical season, my wish is for you also to find so much joy in sharing beauty, and to find light and life and peace.
Thank you for helping us to share beauty for the past 13 seasons. I’m so grateful for each of you.
