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The sun was out and, while it was still pretty early in the morning, the humidity and heat were already engulfing the earth as the Old Lady picked up her basket and headed out to the garden. Thoughts of Papa came to her mind. Every morning, after pouring a cup of fresh ground coffee into the iron pot of boiling water, Papa would walk out onto the porch of the old section house in South Louisiana, peer up from under the eaves, turn his head from side to side, and look up into the sky. After a few moments, he would shake his head and predict the day's weather. In August, Papa's prediction was usually the same and usually right. "It's gonna be another hot one." He would say.

The Old Lady didn't have a porch but lately she found herself predicting the day's weather as Papa had done back there in the thirties. Every morning she would walk out in the yard with a cup of coffee in her hand, look up into the sky and predict the day's
weather as Papa had done many years ago. Today was definitely "gonna be another hot
one."

The summer had been hot and dry. About the only thing left in the garden to pick was peas and they didn't show any signs of slowing down in their production. As a matter of fact, the things were still coming up. There were three or four little plants coming up out of the ground right there in front of her.

Now then! The Old Lady never planted peas and she had a reason. Several reasons as a matter of fact. Reason Number One! She only had a small garden and peas took up too much space. The vines spread out all over the place crowding out other plants. Number two! She would never forget picking peas as a child and getting caught up in the vines and always falling down. Reason Number Three, and perhaps, the most important one. Ants, bees, and wasps! It seemed peas attracted these varmints. She still flinched at the thought of all those ant, bee, and wasp stings she had suffered back there in Louisiana picking those crowder, field, and purple hull peas. But these peas kept coming up and she kept picking them.

The peas first appeared three summers ago. It was a dry year with record breaking temperatures and, even with watering, nothing else seemed to grow and produce. The peas appeared about the second week of June. The old Lady had noticed several little pea plants which she immediately pulled up. They continued to come up so, since nothing else in the garden was doing anything, she left them alone. She had no idea where they came from. Maybe birds had dropped them but no one else in the neighborhood planted peas. If they had been mixed with seed she had bought, she would have seen them. No! These peas appeared from nowhere and were unlike any the Old Lady had ever seen. Little green peas!

The Old Lady dutifully picked the peas and gave them to neighbors or took them over to the Seniors' Citizen Center. One of the elderly ladies at The Center became very excited and asked where she had found the seed. The Old Lady explained to her they had not been planted and, having never seen this kind of peas before, she had no idea what they were. They were just strange short hulled and little green peas. It was then the elderly lady exclaimed, "They are southern cream peas. My Mama always planted them." She then went on to rave about them being the best kind of peas she had ever eaten and that every body always planted them in this area.

And now, for the third year, the Old Lady was picking peas again. She stumbled in the vines and hung on to a tomato cage engulfed with the vines to keep from falling. She picked a handful of the peas inside the wire cage. No matter how many peas she picked, she would look back and see three or four she had missed. There were no bees to dodge but the volume of ants and wasps made up for the lack of them.

It was almost noon when she sat the basket of picked peas on the side of the garden and reached for a smaller one to finish the pea picking job. She wiped the sweat from her eyes with the sleeve of her blouse. The effort was useless as she was saturated with perspiration. She laughed as she thought of Mama. Mama always said ladies didn't sweat. Mama said ladies perspired. "Well, Mama! I must not be a lady because I ain't perspiring. I am sweating! Lord! How I am sweating."

The basket and a half of peas picked, the Old Lady walked back to the house. She'd be up to midnight shelling and washing them. Here she was! Three years after the first little green peas had appeared in her garden. Picking peas. Well! Maybe God had a purpose for these peas. Maybe He wanted her to pick and shell peas. Nobody else had peas just coming up from nowhere in their gardens. One old guy at the Seniors' Center was disappointed because the deer had eaten his pea crop. He said they ate it every year in spite of all he did to keep them out of the garden. He, too, was pleased with the little green peas. Goodness! The deer sure didn't have a craving for these peas and sometimes the Old Lady wished they had. The only things having a craving for these peas was wasps, ants, and the elderly people at the Seniors' Center.

The Old Lady had given the peas a name. She called them "God's peas." God must have planted them for she surely didn't. No way was she going to plant peas! After the second year they came up she had figured God intended for those peas to grow. He had a reason for those little green peas to be in the Old Lady's garden. Papa had taught her God has a reason for all of his gifts. That reason is to take the gift He has given you and share it. So, share your God given gifts. Share them even if they just happen to be little green peas.

By the way! The Old Lady was right with her weather prediction. It was "another hot one." As she wiped the sweat from her face with a towel she wondered," Do you suppose those little green peas will come up again next year?"

_______________

* Joyce Lang is from Brenham, Texas.  She is originally from Louisiana, and calls herself a Cajun.  We met at the VOW exhibit booth at General Assembly.  She has been part of the VOW network for some time, but this was our first face-to-face meeting.  As we visited, she told me that she wrote stories.  I asked if she'd shre one with us.  This is the story that she sent.  I hope that you enjoy it as much as I did.