Growing Together

It’s always interesting when I attend gardening events and notice that I tend to be one of the younger faces in the crowd. Over time, other gardeners and I have chatted about why gardening might not be as popular with younger generations as it once was. It’s not uncommon to wonder, could gardening one day become a rare skill? I feel fortunate to have grown up in a family that deeply valued gardening—my parents and grandparents taught me not only how to plant but how to love the earth that nourishes us. Gardening has shaped my life in so many ways, but it’s the profound impact on my overall happiness that stands out the most. There’s something so peaceful about being outdoors, hands in the dirt, connecting with nature, and understanding how all living things are interconnected. It’s a grounding experience that helps me focus on what I feel truly matters—what we can do for others.

I still remember the first time I heard the phrase, "Be the change you wish to see in the world." It hit me like a ton of bricks and set me on a path to step away from a career I loved in the beauty industry to become a grower, artisan, and teacher. Today, I dream of a world where every home has an abundant garden, where neighbors share food and recipes, where pollinators buzz, and where we heal ourselves, our communities, and the planet—one garden at a time. This deep connection to nature fuels my passion for teaching. While there are many complex issues in the world, I can’t solve them all. But what I can do is introduce my passion for gardening to as many young people as possible to the beauty and wonder of gardening. My hope is that a few, maybe more, will develop a lifelong love for growing—not just for themselves, but to pass on that knowledge to others as well. Just like my parents and grandparents did for me.

This vision came to life so vividly recently when I spent the day with my flower farming and floristry students. I came up with the idea of making seed bombs together—a creative and simple way to plant various flowers, herbs, and vegetables by mixing seeds with clay and soil to form small balls. These seed bombs can be easily scattered in your garden or other outdoor spaces to help beautify the area and support pollinators. We had fun decorating them with dried flower petals, adding a pop of color and texture. We even got creative with our shapes, making hearts for Valentine's Day and forming designs inspired by nature—like a turtle and snail. With the vast amount of celosia seeds I had saved, I included some herbs and vegetables as well. When my students arrived and saw the table covered with seed packets, they were immediately drawn to them. They crowded around, admiring the different varieties. When we were diving into seed companies and learning how to read seed packets over the last few weeks, I was amazed to hear them discussing the differences between brands and sharing excitement over the germination times listed. One student, opening a beet packet, turned to her classmate and said, "Look at these! They're so cool, I can't believe they’ll grow into beets!" Another student, holding a packet of Brussels sprout seeds, looked at the tiny round seeds and exclaimed, "How can something this small grow into something so big? It’s like magic!" Their genuine wonder and shared excitement about how these tiny seeds held so much potential filled the room with joy, and I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of pride. I saw them experiencing the same magic I feel every time I open a seed packet.

That moment will stay with me for a long time, and I wanted to share it with you because it reminded me of why I teach. It’s not just about gardening. It’s about empowering others to create positive change. We all have the ability to make a difference, whether it’s by nurturing the next generation of gardeners or taking a step toward something you’ve always dreamed of. Don’t be afraid to take that leap of faith—whether that means volunteering, mentoring, teaching, or starting the business you’ve always wanted. Our time here is short, and it’s easy to let it slip away. But if we’re mindful of how we spend it, we can make every day count—one small act at a time.

And if you ever find yourself needing a space to reconnect with nature, to find peace, melt away your anxiety, or to simply rediscover your joy, I invite you to join me in the garden. Here, we can put our hands in the soil and grow something beautiful—together. Not just for us, but for the world around us.

Peace,

Christina