With spring's arrival comes garden prep time. Over the last couple of years, I've worked hard to create a garden space out of a long-time pasture. Using only a shovel and elbow grease, I dug and turned and dug and turned until my whole body ached. Then, last year, my father came to the rescue and tilled my garden for me. Last week, I began the process again. 1/4 of the way through the digging and turning of the garden with the shovel, I stopped and sent a text to my dad.
He came with his tiller and saved the day.
He did most of the work, then let the little girls hang onto the handles for a while.
We were able to get some cold weather veggies (radishes, peas) planted, too.
I am so grateful for my dad! I hesitate to ask him for favors because he is constantly helping other people. What a legacy, though, to be known as one who is always serving Heavenly Father's children.
My dad: An instrument for good.