A young mother brought her children to learn how to plant beans.
An older neighbor showed Ray a better way to preserve certain vegetables.
The garden became more than a source of food.
It became a place where people could accept help without feeling humiliated, because everyone had something to offer, even if they couldn’t offer it that day.
Ray kept his binder, but he changed how he used it.
He stopped recording what each person took.
Instead, he recorded the harvests, the seeds distributed, and the supplies needed for the next season.
“People shouldn’t have to prove they’re poor before they can eat,” he told me when I asked why he had changed his records.
I never forgot that sentence.
Meanwhile, my mother’s condition slowly stabilized.
She still needed medical appointments and assistance with everyday tasks. Some days were difficult, and there were mornings when the pain left her exhausted.
