Sowing The Seeds Of Love Part 39

'Me, me!' Kathy danced on the spot.

'Okay. What have you got?'

'My Little Pony. I'm too big to play with her now so maybe some other little girl can play with her in the future.'

'Very good. How about you, Liam?'

'My yellow digger.'

'Are you sure?' said Aoife. 'It's one of your favourites.'

'I want to put it in.' Liam pursed his lips.

'Okay, then.'

'Emily?'

'My contribution is this Babygro belonging to Rose that she's grown out of. And my copy of Beowulf. I spent almost my entire first year of college reading this book and I never want to see the d.a.m.n thing again. In fact, burying is probably too good for it but here you go anyway.'

'Thank you, Emily. While we're at it, I'm putting in this pair of secateurs. They were the first tool I bought when I set up my gardening business. I found them the other day when I was clearing out my shed. They're not much use for gardening any more, but I thought they might be... symbolic or something.'

Those gathered around murmured their a.s.sent.

'Right. Who's next? Mrs P.'

'I've decided to put this back.' Mrs Prendergast handed Seth the blue and white ceramic angel that had been unearthed in the first time capsule. 'On the basis that it appears to work.'

'Okay. Aoife?'

Aoife took a deep breath and handed Seth a small ornate pillbox. 'This is a lock of my daughter Katie's hair.'

There were a few seconds in which no one said anything.

'Are you sure?' said Emily. 'It's a very precious thing to bury.'

'Don't worry. I have about a dozen locks of her hair at home. And I like the idea of someone finding a little piece of her in years to come.'

'Can I see?'

Aoife nodded and Seth handed Emily the box. She opened it and exclaimed at the sight of the red-gold curl, secured at one end by a tiny pink ribbon. 'What a beautiful colour. I bet she was gorgeous.'

'She was.'

'May I?' said Mrs Prendergast.

The box was handed around and Aoife felt proud and emotional as everyone admired her daughter's hair. Finally, the box was handed back to Seth. 'Dad, you're the only one left. What have you got for us?'

Uri handed Seth a small threadbare teddy bear.

'Dad, are you...'

Uri nodded. 'This bear belonged to my little sister Hannah. I found it in the wreckage of our home after the war. For years I kept it with me in the hope that I might be able to return it to her. Today I lay that hope to rest.'

It was a little while before Seth could speak. 'Thank you, Dad. Now if you could just hand me the newspaper and the photo, Lance. Thank you. I think we're just about done.'

Seth packed all the objects neatly into the box and closed the lid. Then he placed it reverently in the earth and covered it with soil.

Liam burst into noisy sobs.

'What is it?'

'My yellow digger.'

'Hold on, Seth.'

The box was exhumed and the digger resurrected. Liam replaced the digger with a lesser d.i.n.ky car he had in his pocket. Then the time capsule was reburied once and for all.

Now it was time for the procession.

Uri was Master of Ceremonies. He narrated the movement of the children as they progressed in an undulating line from the gate to the sukkoh.

'These are the children of St Mary's. We're very grateful for all their help with the Autumn Party. You will see that some of them are carrying lanterns. They have made these themselves.' The lanterns were jam jars of various shapes and sizes, with little bits of coloured tissue paper stuck on each in an ad hoc fas.h.i.+on. Every lantern housed a night light, which glowed colourfully in the gathering twilight.

'The other children are holding an etrog fruit in one hand.' These looked like large lemons. Uri had been carefully cultivating them in the far reaches of the garden. Now Aoife knew why. 'In their other hands, the children are holding bunches of leaves known as lulav. These are made up of palm, for uprightness, willow, for humility, and myrtle, for faithfulness. Together they symbolize brotherhood and peace. This procession is part of the tradition of the Jewish harvest festival. It serves as a reminder of the beauty of life. Speaking of beauty, the girl wearing the crown is my granddaughter Kathy. This is known in Germany as the "harvest crown" or "Erntekrone". It's made of ears of grain, flowers and fruit.'

One by one, the children reached the sukkoh. Those with lulav placed it on the roof. Those with lanterns hung them from the eaves. Kathy kept her crown on. This might or might not have been part of the plan but, from the expression on her face, it would have to be prised off her.

There was silence while the children returned to their places in the crowd, alongside friends and parents.

'Now we have a presentation to make,' said Uri.

This was news to Aoife. She wondered what it could be.

The crowds parted to allow through Seth and Lance. Between them, they carried a bench. It was clearly homemade, rustic-looking. The seat was a log sawn in half a large one at that. The remainder was constructed of branches bound together with split roots. On it there was a metal plaque with writing. Aoife couldn't make it out from where she was standing.

'Aoife? Where's Aoife? Can you come up here, please?'

Aoife stiffened. Those around her pushed her gently forward. As she entered the clearing, everyone started to clap. How mortifying. She stood beside Uri and he put his arm around her shoulders and turned her to face everyone.

'You're looking here at the woman who made this possible. This garden. This wonderful day. Through her vision. Her hard work. Her bossiness.'

There was an appreciative laugh from the audience.

'For this, my dear Aoife, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts. And, as a token of our appreciation, we hereby present you with this bench to be located at a site of your choosing.'

Everyone clapped again.

'It was made by Seth,' continued Uri, 'so it really is a labour of love.' He squeezed her shoulder. 'Could you read out the inscription, please, Aoife?'

She cleared her throat: ' "For those we have loved and lost, that they might linger here". It's beautiful,' she said. 'Thank you all so much.' She nodded at everyone, not trusting herself to say more.

'The idea,' said Uri, 'is that we all have a special place to go to think about our loved ones who are no longer with us. Now.' He gave her shoulder another squeeze. 'Where do you want it?'

She pointed. 'Over there beside the pond.'

'Gentlemen?'

Lance and Seth carried the bench to the designated spot and Aoife was released whereupon she ducked back into the crowd and hid herself as best she could.

But Uri hadn't finished. 'If I might have your attention for a few more moments.' He bowed his head and was quiet for so long that people began to glance at one another and fidget. Then he lifted his face and spoke. 'My friends. This day fills me with great joy. It is the culmination of nine months of hard labour. You could say that today signifies the birth of this garden. This creation. Because, really, she is still only in her infancy. She has many years of growth yet to come. And it is up to us to make sure she fulfils her potential. This generation. And generations to come. May we cherish and sustain her, just as she sustains us.' He bowed his head again, for some time. People weren't sure if he had finished or not. An uncertain round of applause broke out, then died rapidly as his voice rang out again.

'Gardens have always been an important part of my life. This comes from my father and his father before him and who knows how many generations back? Men and women who worked the land and partic.i.p.ated in her bounty. And now when I see my son working, he's so like my own father that it hurts me,' he put his hand up to his heart, 'here. How proud he would have been. And of Kathy. Working on her own little flowerbed.' Uri smiled, on the verge of tears. 'What I'm trying to say is that gardens, nature, this garden have given me so much. They probably saved my life. My prayer is that you allow ours to save yours too.'

He walked away, so that everyone knew this time that he'd finished. The crowd clapped once more then merged in upon itself.

After that a lot of people went home, but many stayed on reluctant to let go of such a magical day.

Seth found Uri sitting quietly on the bench. 'Do you mind?'

'Not at all.'

'Nice speech.'

'Thank you.'

There were a few moments' silence.

'Are you okay?'

'Never better. In fact, there was something I wanted to ask you.'

'What is it?'

'Would you come to Germany with me? You and your brother?'

This wasn't what Seth had been expecting.

'Well yes. Of course I will. And Aaron too, I'm sure. But what brought this on? You've never wanted to go back before.'

'I know. Perhaps you'll understand when you get to my age. The need to say goodbye.'

'Don't talk like that, Dad. You've got years in you yet.'

'Maybe so. But who knows? I'd like to show you and Aaron where I grew up. The river I used to fish and swim in. Perhaps visit my grandparents' house down south.'

'I'd love that.'

'And I'd like to visit the camps. The one where your grandfather was shot. And the one where your grandmother and aunt were murdered.'

'I didn't think you'd found that out for sure.'

'It's the only possible explanation. There's no record of them. They must have been brought straight to the gas chambers the day we arrived. Those people weren't registered.'

Seth nodded and didn't say anything.

'If you think it's too morbid, you don't have to come.'

'No. Not at all. It's important to you. To all of us. So I can show Kathy when she's older.'

'Yes.'

They were quiet for a while.

'You never know,' said Uri, 'we might find some long-lost relatives. I couldn't trace any of them after the war, but so many were displaced at the time. It's worth looking into, I think.'

'It's a great idea. I'll start researching flights tomorrow.'

'Thank you, Seth. Now I'd like to sample some of your poteen.'

'Only if I can have a gla.s.s of your elderberry wine.'

'Deal.'

The alcohol was produced. Under its influence, the playing of the band took on a new, more frenzied dimension. And with most of the children gone home for tea, the adults began to dance, heavily improvised versions of 'The Siege of Ennis' and 'The Walls of Limerick'. Then a young man crossed two brooms on the ground and danced gloriously around them, his hands hanging loose at his sides, his thigh muscles admired collectively by all the women present. A very old man got two kitchen chairs and held on to the backs of them, one on his left and one on his right. Between them, he performed the best jig anyone had ever seen. It even inspired Aoife to take out her tin whistle and tootle for a while.

Many songs were sung that night. Emigrant songs by people who had never left the oul' sod in the first place. Rebel songs by those without a rebellious bone in their bodies. Love songs.

'This was a brilliant idea,' said Emily. 'We should have a party to celebrate the change of every season.'

'You can organize it next time,' said Aoife.

'We could do the winter solstice. And May Day we could have a maypole!'

'Where are you going to get the morris dancers?'

'We could do it.'

'They're meant to be men.'

'We could be the Morrisettes!'

'Hey, Mrs P, tell me something,' said Seth.

'For pity's sake, will you stop calling me that. Call me Myrtle if you must. Anything's better than Mrs P.'

'Myrtle! If you didn't murder your husband and bury him in the garden, how come you never let us dig in that little patch at the back?'

'Because you fool Harriet's mother is buried there.'