The Godmother's Way

Yesterday a customer stopped by our market stall. She is a long-time resident of Homewood, a former elementary school teacher, a world traveler, and now, she told me, she is very ill and doesn’t expect to survive the year. She told me about her perennial garden and asked me if I wanted any of her plants. So I spent an hour with her in the afternoon, listening to her stories about her life and the neighborhood she had lived in for nearly half a century, marveling at how her mental energy sustained her as her physical resources failed her, laughing at her dry wit, benefiting from her advice, and inheriting half a dozen irises and lilies that are now settling in to their new home.

But that’s not what I was going to write about. I was going to tell you about a conversation I had recently with Jackie Riffice, master gardener and founder of Prairie Godmothers, whom I have long admired for her approach to sustainable garden artistry and her ability to craft a wicked pun.

Inspired by Julia Cameron’s teachings on the Artist’s Way and in need of a new occupation when the company she was working for downsized, Jackie combined her 25 years of experience as a corporate project manager with the creative and spiritual energy she obtained from gardening, and created a venture to, as she put it to me, “save the planet in a small way.” She now oversees a team of 8 Godmothers, all credentialed gardeners with diverse expertise, creating sustainable native gardens in three states.

The Godmothers are not landscapers or architects, Jackie says. “We don’t create a blank canvas and then impose our design on it. We approach a client’s garden as we approach our own, building on the bones of what already exists.” Before the Godmothers begin a project, they encourage their clients to know the profile of their property, to chart the areas of sun and shade and learn the characteristics of the soil. Then the Godmothers work with the client, often literally side-by-side, to embellish the natural features of the client’s property with carefully selected native plants.

One of the more stunning types of gardens designed by the Godmothers is the rain garden. At its center is a shallow depression, designed to hold rainwater or runoff for less than 24 hours. Surrounding the basin are sequential rings of native plants, beginning with species that “like to have wet feet” and gradually transitioning to forms that prefer dryer conditions. The rain garden naturally filters stormwater, helping to keep our storm sewers from overflowing and purifying the water before it returns to the water table.

 “The transition to a garden with native plants and earth-friendly design can be a paradigm shift for people who are used to a manicured English garden. We demystify going green,” Jackie says. “Often we form a long-term relationship with the client. As their comfort level grows, they come back to us with questions or new ideas. They know where they want to go, but we are the tour guides on their travels.”

So why did I start by telling you about my customer yesterday? Because Jackie Riffice understands how gardening is as much an emotional as a physical exercise. “Gardening,” she says, “is a very personal experience. We started by tending the gardens of elderly clients who could no longer do the harder work themselves, but couldn’t bear to see their gardens go unmaintained. They would tell us their stories as we worked together.”

I came home yesterday with more than an armful of plants. When I placed those iris and lilies in my beds, I became the custodian, at least in part, of someone else’s history. I was given the opportunity to honor a remarkable woman by caring for something that is meaningful to her. Somebody blessed me. Maybe it was a Godmother.