Vancouver Jewish Community Garden coordinator Maggie Wilson took the photo that graces this year’s cover of the Jewish Independent Summer issue. According to the garden’s newsletter, “A few strawberry plants opted to try their luck in the gravel and managed to produce the season’s first strawberries!”
The garden was established in 2020 by Vancouver Talmud Torah, Congregation Beth Israel and Jewish Family Services. It was made possible by the Diamond Foundation, which secured a long-term lease of the land for future development and is allowing the land to be used on a temporary basis, and the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver, Jewish Community Foundation and Ronald S. Roadburg Foundation, who provided significant financial seed gifts.
The recent newsletter shared, “We have already harvested a crop of vibrant radishes, arugula, kale and herbs. Children and adults alike have enjoyed tasting nectar-laced kale flowers, and JFS’s chef used the fresh radishes in her Tuesday salad.
“The peas, seeded by VTT’s Grade 1 students, have started to ripen. The first small batch was harvested for JFS by VTT’s Green Thumb Club.”
Groups from JFS, VTT and BI “have spent time in the garden this spring, contributing their muscles, enthusiasm and appetites!
“JFS staff came to move wheelbarrows of compost into the garden beds to top-up and replenish the soil. They then enjoyed a picnic lunch in the garden.”
VTT students from grades 1 through 7 have come to help and learn in the garden, as have students from BI’s Hebrew school, and BI staff.
For community members looking to get involved in the garden, its website – jewishcommunitygarden.ca – is now live. Check it out for all things garden, including a continually updated slide show so you can follow along as the garden changes throughout the seasons. Upcoming volunteer opportunities will be posted, and information on how you can get involved. Everyone is welcome – there are tasks for all abilities and experience levels.
Rabbi Paul Plotkin returns to Congregation Beth Israel for the Canadian launch of his new book, Wisdom Grows in My Garden. (photo from AIA Publishing)
In part to fill his need to nurture – his kids off to college and his congregation less reliant on him – Rabbi Paul Plotkin took up gardening. Not only has he produced some of the most expensive tomatoes, taking into account all the capital that goes into every one that makes it into a salad or sandwich, but he has produced a new book: Wisdom Grows in My Garden (AIA Publishing). And he will launch that book in Canada on May 10, 7:30 p.m., at Beth Israel Synagogue, where he began his rabbinical career.
“I started in the summer of 1976 as Rabbi [Wilfred] Solomon’s first assistant, and he left for Israel after breaking his Yom Kippur fast on the way to the airport, and the 26-year-old ‘kid’ took over. Rabbi [Marvin] Hier was away from the Schara Tzedeck for most of the year preparing to build what was to become the Simon Wiesenthal Centre, so I was thrust into the position of often being the Vancouver non-Reform senior rabbi. It was quite a ride. It was a good thing I didn’t know what I couldn’t do, or I would have been paralyzed with fear. Instead, I jumped in and went to work.”
While BI was his first pulpit, Plotkin said, “I had been a youth director of my home synagogue while in college and in New York while at the seminary. I learned a lot about programming and leadership from those jobs and translated it into heading a synagogue.”
He admitted that the experience “was not without mistakes but what I couldn’t entirely appreciate was the menschlichkeit of my members. They appreciated my enthusiasm, my passion and my sincerity and pardoned most of my excesses and faults. It was a truly Canadian thing. I know now how special it was because my other two congregations in Florida were a lot different. Years later, I would share privately that my ‘worst critics’ in Vancouver treated me better than my good friends in Florida. By being thrown into the fire and succeeding – succeeding was a low bar, if the shul was still standing when Rabbi Solomon returned, I would have been praised – I learned of the potential people had for change, of their desire for knowledge, and that I could actually help transform people into greater commitment to mitzvot and the Jewish people.”
Plotkin was born and raised in Toronto, but has lived in South Florida for more than four decades. He is rabbi emeritus of Temple Beth Am and served on the Rabbinical Assembly’s committee on Jewish law and standards for some 20 years. He is the founding chair of its kashrut subcommittee and also is in charge of kashrut for Ben’s Kosher restaurant chain. He loves food and cooking. And Canada still holds a special place for him – he and his wife own a townhouse in Whistler, “primarily as a new summer cottage for after retirement,” he said. “We will be there for four months this summer.”
An avid writer, publishing articles in various newspapers and magazines, Plotkin has a blog on medium.com. He published a book some 20 years ago – The Lord Is My Shepherd, Why Do I Still Want?: Ancient Wisdom for the Modern Soul (Eakin Press) – but waited until retirement to write his second.
“First, in those days, I had to triage my time and creative mental energy. I also needed more age and seasoning for all of the pieces to melt together. Pirkei Avot teaches us to see wisdom in the elderly. Great red wine isn’t great in its first year. It takes years to develop nuance and subtlety. Creation of the book was no different.”
The idea came to him in a dream, he said.
“Unfortunately, I was still in my active work years, with an 1,100-family congregation. Finding time to breathe was hard, let alone write a book, so I made it a priority in retirement. Over the years after the dream, new ideas would come to me in the garden and I would jot them down and throw them into a file with the dream material.”
In describing the book, Plotkin said, “Technically, it is a narrative memoir, because it is my story and told entirely from my perspective, but it is not in its heart a memoir. It revolves around the garden, but you won’t improve your tomato growing by reading the book. It is, in essence, a life lesson book (indeed, there are 25 life lessons in the book) that will help guide you to a better life. It is filled with humour and stories, two tools that featured prominently in 40 years of sermons. It will offer the reader some important guides to navigating a better life. I like to tell Jewishly knowledgeable audiences that the garden was my ‘Torah,’ my book is the Midrash.”
Plotkin said “gardening is a wonderful emotional and humbling pastime” and cited a recent article that “extolled its value as an alternative choice for exercising.”
“If you haven’t got time,” he said, “try a few herbs in a pot on the windowsill. If you have a black thumb, grow zucchini. In northern climates, everyone grows so many, they start to call friends they don’t have to offer them some. If you read the book, the irony of this last statement will become clear.”
Of the feedback he has received so far – from readers in his own demographic, as well as that of his mid-40s son, from Jews and non-Jews, from observant people and atheists – Plotkin said, “much to my shock, they all liked it and, yet, like a Rorschach test, they all found messages in my lessons that reflected their needs or interests. There is something in this book for everyone.”
Chapter 1 of Wisdom Grows in My Garden takes place at Beth Israel, said Plotkin. “I hope many readers and especially those who may remember me from their bar/bat mitzvahs and weddings that I officiated at will come out to the evening and say hello,” he said.
My family plants a garden every summer. We live in a city and don’t have lots of room. Since our house is more than 100 years old, we created small raised beds, filled with compost and soil, to avoid growing veggies in what is potentially contaminated soil.
Although my husband and I have gardened together for years, when our twins were younger, we developed a haphazard technique. Before twins, we might have studied companion plants, figuring out what would grow best and where, but all that disappeared after two babies came on scene. Since then, every year, right around their birthday on June 1, we’d throw a planting party with some friends. First, we had the birthday ice cream cake and, then, we’d dig together. Within an hour, the entire garden was planted.
Sometimes, a retired history professor was in charge of bean planting. Our actor friend, who also worked as a mother’s helper for us when the kids were small, was in charge of squash. It was sometimes a surprise to see what the garden produced. We left it all to chance – what grows and what fails would be a surprise.
This year, no parties, of course. With two kids home from elementary school in mid-March, we started seeding. We planted lettuce, radish and spinach outdoors. We followed the advice of Winnipeg’s mayor, who suggested people “plant an extra row” for the food bank, as so many are out of work. We planted sprouting potato peelings as one of our home-school science projects, and filled every extra pot with potato plants.
In the Babylonian Talmud, in Tractate Shabbat, starting page 84b, the rabbis discuss how to plant a garden. What is an acceptable plan for a garden bed, which avoids the prohibition of sowing diverse kinds of seeds together, they ask? The rabbis engage in a level of landscaping planning that my gardens have never seen. In the Vilna edition, there are even illustrations and sketches provided.
This year in our garden, for the first time in awhile, we know where everything is and who planted what. I don’t have to call any of our friends to find out which variety of squash seeds they used and if they will be close enough to the others to pollinate properly!
What struck me though was that, unlike past years, we had time to spread out and enjoy the gardening experience. Yes, we’ve had virtual meetings for school and work, but the summer unfurls before us with practically nothing on the calendar – no traveling, no festivals, no big obligations. We’re still waiting to hear, but suspect there will be no summer camp or swim lessons at the lake either. Staying home is where it’s at.
Long, unplanned stretches of weekend time and summer evenings spool out ahead. We can stream services or watch a Jewish music concert from home, play on the porch or water the garden. True, we may not be able to travel to see grandparents or have big Shabbat dinners. We do miss our friends and family. However, we’ll have leisurely morning dog walks to explore new places and greet neighbours, long afternoons to help our kids learn to bike, fly kites, or just scooter up and down the block.
This scary coronavirus is stressful, don’t get me wrong. We’ve already felt its serious effects on relatives in New York and New Jersey. It continues to affect us in many ways and, even if summer’s a reprieve, the danger hasn’t passed. Yet, in the virus’s shadow, we’ve been offered a moment to adjust and experience an entirely different pace, and it’s a surprising gift on its own.
Yes, our garden is more orderly this year than it has been in at least 10 years, but it’s nothing as tidy or thoughtful as the rabbis’ landscaping guides. I suspect, if the rabbis were to see our garden beds, they would be upset. We squish way too many varieties of tomatoes, beans, peas, lettuces, cucumbers, herbs and more into these small spaces.
At the same time, our pandemic-enforced break may offer us the chance for longer conversations, more time off to enjoy family and Shabbat, and more learning, too. I can’t pretend the rabbis’ advice made us plant more tidy rows of beans, carrots or nasturtiums, but the pandemic likely gave me the time and space to read their advice, and actually think about it.
We’ve eaten two salads full of microgreens and herbs, straight from the garden, and I got to share with you what I’ve learned about 1,500-year-old planting advice. That’s not a bad start to the season. It’s also a reminder: get out in the sunshine! (With sunscreen and social distancing, of course.) Summer lies ahead – with newfound time to enjoy it.
Joanne Seiffhas written regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.
While temporarily closed to the public, West Coast Seeds is still getting seeds to gardeners via garden centres, grocery stores and the mail. (photo from West Coast Seeds)
The pandemic and its associated social and economic impacts have focused attention on food security, as well as the therapeutic benefits of gardening in times of turmoil.
This is part of the message from a local company specializing in organic seeds. West Coast Seeds, a Delta-based company that was founded in 1983 and bought by Craig Diamond a half-dozen years ago, has a mission to “encourage sustainable, organic growing practices through knowledge and support … eating locally produced food whenever possible, sharing garden wisdom, and teaching people how to grow from seed.”
Aaron Saks, the company’s director of finance and son-in-law of Diamond, said getting back to basics, like growing your own food, seems to be one of the responses to the social isolation associated with the COVID-19 pandemic.
“We’ve seen a big push toward food security,” said Saks. “Both ensuring that you know where your food is coming from and getting healthy produce when it might not be readily available other places.”
While so many things are off limits – public parks, basketball courts, beaches – those with backyards can still get in the soil and be in touch with Mother Nature, said Saks.
West Coast Seeds is a pioneer in organic and non-genetically-modified agriculture. Since the Diamond family took over the company, they have refurbished a heritage barn in a rural part of Ladner to be their headquarters, where they have their warehouse and a retail operation, which is temporarily closed to the public. The products are also distributed wholesale to garden centres and grocery stores and they do a large mail order business, which has been ideally suited to adapting to the new reality of the pandemic.
The Diamonds are a fourth-generation British Columbia-based family, notes the West Coast Seeds website: “Since Craig’s grandfather, Jack Diamond, came to Canada in 1927 as a young man and purchased his first business in 1940, the Diamonds have been engaged as leaders in business. They continue to follow the principles of community and philanthropy set by Jack, and further exemplified by his son, Charles. The values of West Coast Seeds resonate deeply with the Diamond family and they are committed to uphold this tradition.”
The values of repairing the world that underpin the Diamond family ethos and the West Coast Seeds mission, Saks said, are being demonstrated globally right now as individuals step up to help their neighbours in this challenging period.
“I think everybody has seen the propensity of society to want to give back at this time,” he said. “One of the pillars of our company is actually tikkun olam.”
The company donates seeds for class projects, school gardens, community education and nonprofit organizations.
The company is balancing the safety of warehouse employees with the need to get seeds to the public, said Saks, expressing gratitude to the staff team for distancing, while still getting product to customers.
“We’re thrilled that they’re able to get seeds, that they’re able to grow, that they can support their local garden centre, support growing their own food and be able to get healthier foods, live healthier lifestyles, as a result of gardening. That’s what we’re trying to do. We’re trying to give back wherever we can and create joyful moments,” he said.
When times are tough, said Saks, something comparatively simple like putting a seed in the ground can help people through.
“That mystical thing about gardening,” he said. “Every time it germinates, it’s just a crazy thing, like magic.”
People who spend time gardening, doing yard work and have direct contact with soil feel more relaxed and happier. (photo by Brad Greenlee)
It’s natural to long for spring when it’s cold outside. But there’s a good reason why you may pine for green. Living landscapes are an important part of the outdoor lifestyle that North Americans enjoy, but the benefits go beyond the barbeque and backyard baseball. Green spaces are necessary for our health.
“The advantages of grass and landscaping surpass the usual physical benefits that result from outdoor activity,” said Kris Kiser, president and chief executive officer of the Outdoor Power Equipment Institute (OEPI). “Numerous studies have found that people who spend more time outside or are exposed to living landscapes are happier, healthier and smarter.”
Researchers have studied the impact of nature on human well-being for years, but recent studies have found a more direct correlation between human health, particularly related to stress, and the importance of people’s access to nature and managed landscapes.
Getting dirty is actually good for you. Soil is the new Prozac, according to Dr. Christopher Lowry, a neuroscientist at the University of Bristol in England. Mycobacterium vaccae in soil mirrors the effect on neurons the pharmaceutical provides. The bacterium stimulates serotonin production, which explains why people who spend time gardening, doing yard work and have direct contact with soil feel more relaxed and happier.
Children who are raised on farms, in a “dirtier” environment than an urban setting, not only have a stronger immune system but are also better able to manage social stress, according to the National Academy of Sciences.
Living near living landscapes can improve your mental health.
Researchers in England found that people moving to greener areas experienced an immediate improvement in mental health that was sustained for at least three years after they moved. The study also showed that people relocating to a more developed area suffered a drop in mental health.
Greening of vacant urban areas in Philadelphia reduced feelings of depression by 41.5% and reduced poor mental health by 62.8% for those living near the vacant lots, according to one study.
According to Dutch researchers, people who live within a half mile of green space – such as parks, public gardens and greenways – were found to have a lower incidence of 15 diseases, including depression, anxiety, heart disease, diabetes, asthma and migraines.
A 2015 study found that people living in areas with more trees had a boost in heart and metabolic health. Other studies show that tasks conducted under the calming influence of nature are performed better and with greater accuracy, yielding a higher quality result. Spending time in gardens, for instance, can improve memory performance and attention span by 20%.
Living landscapes can also make you smarter. Children gain attention and working memory benefits when they are exposed to greenery, says a study led by Payam Dadvand of the Centre for Research in Environmental Epidemiology in Barcelona. In addition, exposure to natural settings may be widely effective in reducing attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder symptoms in children.
Research has shown for adults, as well, that being around plants helps them concentrate better at home and at work. Charlie Hall, Ellison Chair in International Floriculture at Texas A&M, believes that spending time in gardens can improve attention span and memory performance by as much as 20%.
A National Institutes of Health study found that adults demonstrate significant cognitive gains after going on a nature walk. In addition, a Stanford University study found that walking in nature, rather than a concrete-oriented, urban environment, resulted in decreased anxiety, rumination and negative affect, and produced cognitive benefits, such as increased working memory performance.
Living landscapes also can help you heal faster. Multiple studies have discovered that plants in hospital recovery rooms or views of esthetically pleasing gardens help patients heal up to one day faster than those who are in more sterile or austere environments. Physicians are now prescribing time outdoors for some patients, according to recent reports, and Park Rx America is a nonprofit with a mission to encourage physicians to prescribe doses of nature.
All of these benefits reinforce the importance of maintaining our yards, parks and other community green spaces. Trees, shrubs, grass and flowering plants are integral to human health. Not only do they provide a place for people and pets to play, they directly contribute to our mental and physical well-being.
Planting trees as a community project in Jerusalem. (photo by Ariella Tzuvical)
Are Israeli city-dwellers still attached to the land? The answer is yes, but the connection to the land plays itself out in a surprising way.
By and large, today’s Israelis are an apartment-bound lot, but many dream of having a house with a garden. Those who are lucky enough to have a small garden – or an apartment with a patio – plant flowers and even grow fruit. Depending on the season, many Israelis grow grapes, oranges, tangerines, pears, grapefruits, lemons, kumquats, olives and pomegranates. Interestingly, some of these items have been grown in Israel since ancient times: “a land of wheat and barley, and grapevines and fig trees and pomegranates; a land of olive trees and honey … you shall eat and be satisfied.” (Deuteronomy 8:7-10)
Community gardening is a budding and not insignificant phenomenon taking root in Israeli cities. In Jerusalem alone, there are 70 community gardens. Municipalities, community centres, local branches of national nature preservation organizations (like Hachevra L’haganat Hateva), pro-environment charitable bodies (like Keren Sheli) and the Ministry of Environmental Protection are teaming up to help urban residents create these gardens. They are assisting interested apartment dwellers by providing seed money, land or know-how to get projects off the ground and onto porches, patios and even rooftops.
Why do urban Israelis grow fruits and vegetables? One young mother from Tel Aviv commented in a Yediot Ahronot article that she wants her children to understand that produce does not come from the supermarket.
Of course, most people want to use their homegrown fruits and vegetables in their regular cooking and preserving. But some grow fruit, such as the pomegranate, for special holiday consumption. For these gardeners, the following Rosh Hashanah blessing takes on added significance: “May the desire of our G-d and the G-d of our Fathers be to increase our merit like the [seeds of the] pomegranate.”
The Jerusalem-based Melamed family says it gardens for exercise, art and culture. They maintain that gardens produce cultured people. Another Jerusalemite looks at her blossoming pear tree and says that keeping a garden enriches a person’s life.
Although Israel, like most other Western countries, has largely switched from being an agrarian society to a technological society, places like the Jerusalem Botanical Gardens believe that gardening has a place. With that in mind, the facility has hired staff to make urban gardening more relevant to those living in Jerusalem.
As well, many Israelis seem to maintain the notion that G-d provides the ingredients for surviving off the land. Thus, when Jews celebrate the rebirth (or reproduction) of the Jewish year, they read: “See, I give you every herb, seed and green thing to you for food.” (Genesis 1:28-30) The annual Torah reading about producing in order to have food has helped fix the idea in the Jewish psyche.
Dr. Rabbi Dalia Marx wrote in A Torah-Prescribed Liturgy: The Declaration of the First Fruits: “The declaration of the first fruits is a bold text.” In Deuteronomy 26, Moses addresses the Israelites on the plains of Moab, “calling upon the Israelites wandering in the wilderness with no permanent ties to the earth to imagine themselves as farmers securely living in their own land. But simultaneously, the text demands of farmers living in their own land that they remember their days as wanderers in the wilderness – and necessarily … ponder the fragility of their own lives.”
When bringing the first fruits of the land to the Temple, the farmer thanks G-d for the bounty in a manner providing for “the entire recapitulation of national history.” In essence, “the farmer teaches himself that the final chapter in the national story is unfolding in real time.”
It should not come as a surprise that Israelis still seriously celebrate the agricultural component of their Jewish pilgrimage holidays. At Sukkot, Israelis everywhere erect sukkot, or booths, just as growers did in their fields thousands of years ago. And, of course, during Sukkot, observant Jews around the world purchase and bless the following combination of plants and fruit: the etrog (citron), lulav (palm), hadas (myrtle) and aravah (willow). These are known as the arbah minim, the four species.
The Passover seder plate contains greens that remind Jews that spring has arrived in Israel, while Shavuot commemorates the harvest that began around Pesach time and ended seven weeks later. For many years, this agricultural holiday had special meaning for those living in Israel, as the early settlers lived off farming. Today, Israel holds a variety of festivals showing off the bikurim, or first produce of the season. These holiday celebrations focus on the production of dairy products and honey.
In early winter, Jews throughout the world celebrate Chanukah by eating foods prepared in oil. Some food researchers maintain this may be related to the fact that Chanukah coincides with the end of the olive harvest. In late winter – except during the Shmitah year, when Jewish law dictates that the land be given a chance to rest – Israeli schoolchildren are out in force planting new trees on Tu b’Shevat, the birthday of the trees, which is increasingly celebrated with a special seder.
Avi Eshkoli, a veteran Jerusalem-area gardener, reported that he had seen more people trying to observe the Shmitah than he had ever witnessed before. He noted that the practice covers the gamut of Israeli religiosity and spirituality.
Part of what continues to tie Israelis to gardening is deeply implanted in Jewish tradition. There is no escaping the fact that Jewish holidays are connected to natural events. Every Jewish holiday begins with a blessing over the wine, the fruit of the vine, and special holiday texts such as Shir HaShirim (the Song of Songs), which is read on Pesach, and Megillat Ruth (the Book of Ruth), which is read on Shavuot, are ripe with references to gardens and fields.
The blessing over the wine is even part of the Jewish wedding ceremony. And, moreover, before the Sabbath eve meal, Jews recite the Kiddush that recalls G-d’s creation. Thus, at least once a week, many Jews are reminded of the process of birth, growth and production in the natural world.
Dr. Rabbi Marx points out that the “new” liturgy for Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israeli Independence Day, incorporates the concept of first fruits, reflecting “that we are home now, but acknowledg[ing] both the process leading to this moment and the fact that the dwelling in the land of Israel is not obvious or guaranteed.”
For Israelis then – and perhaps for many Jews in the Diaspora – urban gardening is not just about growing plants, but about growing spiritually as a people.
Deborah Rubin Fieldsis an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.