I kneel in my garden bed. It has been freshly tilled and spread with a layer of composted manure. We have an ample supply, given that we have four horses on our farm. As rust-breasted bluebirds flit to-and-from nearby nesting boxes, I’m thinking about raising vegetables, flowers, and kids with special needs for the past twenty-five years. Today, pumpkins are my main goal.

I pull soil toward me with my arms, making six large mounds, each six feet apart. I plunge twelve cream-colored teardrops into each heap of sun-kissed earth.

Finished, I stand and brush off my dirt-caked knees, grab the garden hose, and water the invisible seed wonders—seeds holding life just waiting to break through. Kind of like babies waiting for birth.

Many years ago, after planting my first pumpkins, I waited more than a week for them to peek green through the brown. When the pumpkin plants sprouted their first leaves, I noticed some didn’t look like others. Some leaves were rounded, others were angular with slightly jagged edges. Suddenly, I realized I didn’t have just pumpkins—I had zucchini. The seed pack was mixed.

I didn’t get what I expected.

I wanted a patch of large pumpkins to place along our flower garden paths in October. Not having the heart to discard tender new life, I decided to grow pumpkins and zucchini together, learning about their different growth rates, tending needs, and harvest times. Little did I know how unexpected zucchini would bring me abundant joy.

Kind of like raising our three kids with invisible disabilities.

Please keep reading at Jolene Philo’s Different Dream blog.