We all have a variety of skills and talents. Perhaps we have worked
hard to develop these abilities over time or perhaps we were lucky enough to be
born with a gift or two. For example when I’m asked to write an article for the
weekly library column, I feel equipped to do so. I’m comfortable writing children’s
books or poetry. Crafting words is a
skill I’ve developed over time. Likewise, I enjoy entertaining. I become a
whirling dervish beforehand, but hosting a family gathering or holiday party is
definitely my cup of tea.
However, the question I often return to is this: What am I
doing with the wee talents that I have? Am I using them to the best of my
ability? Do you ever ask yourself the same thing? And how wonderful it is when people
share their talents, whether it is here in the library or at a local hospital,
school, or homeless shelter. My coworker, Marg, is an example of someone who is
always giving of her time and talent. She ventures to the housing facilities in
town, teaching crafts like wreath-making and decoupage. My father was the same
way, spending more time helping others than finishing his own projects.
If you are like me, you may have a “Bucket List of Talents”—skills
you would like to master or perfect before you depart from God’s green earth. When
my father passed away this April, my wish list grew longer. I thought about all his talents that were
foreign to me. For years before Dad become a Dean at Central Connecticut State
University, he had been an Industrial Arts teacher. While he inspired his students
with his designs and craft, no one in my immediate family had learned to use
the tools on his work bench. He had saws and drills and levels galore, and yet
I hadn’t a clue how to handle them. How sad was that?!
For a brief amount of time I
considered researching the topic of woodworking at the library. After all, we had
book titles from “Quick
and Easy Woodworking Projects”
by the Handyman Club of America (2000) to “Woodworking
Simplified : Foolproof Carpentry Projects for Beginners” by David and Jeanie Stiles. Maybe I could learn
to craft something. It wasn’t impossible, was it? In middle school I had made a
candle stick holder on a lathe. Perhaps I could watch a Youtube video or,
better yet, take a Woodworking 101 class. The only problem was my heart wasn’t
into it. While I marveled at my father’s talents, I didn’t feel an ounce of
excitement toward wood unless it was going into the fireplace. I loved my
father, but his passion wasn’t going to be my own. Instead my mother and I found
a wonderful neighbor who adopted my father’s collection; he knew exactly what
to do with each and every tool.
Nevertheless I hoped to follow in Dad’s footsteps in some
fashion. It couldn’t be sailing—too expensive. Or model planes—too many parts.
Since it was spring, I began to think about gardening. Again, I checked out a
few books: “Stuff
Every Gardener Should Know” by
Scott Meyer; “Improving
Your Soil” by Keith Reid and “Practical
Gardening” by Jackie Matthews,
Richard Bird and Andrew Mikolajski. I also peeked at his Harris Seed catalog.
Low and behold, I found a box of his seeds in his basement that was waiting to
be planted (tears)! At least gardening was a talent I had begun under his
tutelage. In my backyard, I’d managed to grow a small plot of tomatoes and
peppers over the years, enough for salad and soup now and then. Dad’s garden plot
had rich soil waiting for someone to start seeding. Turns out, I wasn’t that
person.
Surprisingly, my 15-year old daughter, Sarah, was the one
who took on this project. She researched which seeds to plant and how to plant
them. Working in “Papa’s Garden,” as we called it, was healing for her. It also
became a community project. The neighbors brought over seeper hoses and black weed
barrier cloth to make the work lighter. In no time the seedlings took root and
the garden began to thrive. Sarah even succeeded in growing bundles of
eggplant, which had never grown for me. Along one edge she kept my Dad’s
rhubarb, while colorful zinnias lined the other end. In between there were peas
and beans and zucchini and peppers. Perhaps this talent had skipped a generation,
but it was growing none-the-less. I decided to stick with the herbs on my deck
and in my kitchen instead. After all I had the “Indoor
Edible Garden” by Zia Allaway to
help.
What I’ve come to realize is that there are some talents
that may never come my way, as hard as I might try. Woodworking is one of them.
And why struggle with a garden when I can sit back and enjoy the fruits of my
daughter’s labors? That said, I did discover one of my father’s passions that I
can do with gusto. I watched all of the World Series with a sense of pride and
an understanding of why it is America’s “greatest pastime.” It seems my talent
search ended right where it began, with words, these words: Go Sox! Damage
Done!
