This past summer, while working at Castaway, I was washing clothes
one Sunday afternoon. I looked out of the window and saw a girl
cutting flowers in a garden which she had tended to all summer.
She was preparing vases of flowers for guests of the camp who
would be arriving later that day. She worked unnoticed, doing
a task for which she would receive no recognition. That girl,
and that moment, painted a picture of what serving is all about,
and, at the same time, inspired this song.
The Girl in the Garden
I am watching the girl in the garden
silently working alone
with the ones she has watched since their childhood
the ones she has loved as they’ve grown
she kneels among radiant color
and harvests the ones she will use
to fill up the vases of blessing
lavender, champagne and blues
she cuts them with gentle intention
of giving their beauty away
the ones she has cared for, she lovingly wounds,
to brighten a traveler’s day
i am watching the girl in the garden
an artist in petals and grace
i am seeing a girl in a garden
reflecting a far away Face
what must she think while she’s working
what pictures must pass through her mind
she fears not the lack of attention
the beauty rewards here just fine
she has clouds in her fingers
blue skies in her gaze
and sunlight that softens her hair
she has dirt in her palms
from the gardener’s day
but the wisdom to know not to care
there are sunsets the shades of galardia
there are skies of delphinium blue
in this garden of holy creation
where she’s chosen the work she will do
i am watching the girl in the garden
an artist in petals and grace
i am seeing a girl in a garden
reflecting a far away Face
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