Growing Seasons
- jkayvannatta2021
- May 24
- 6 min read
Planting Seeds, Watching Em' Grow
Rain Looks Different Now
The month leading up to our open season has, of course, been rainy. Very rainy. Honestly, rainy for just about everyone around here. But lately, I’ve started looking at the rain differently.
For the first time ever, I don’t rely on my husband to tell me what the weather is supposed to be doing. I actually surprised him the other day when I casually mentioned the weekly forecast. I’m fairly certain he double-checked it afterward just to make sure I was right. :)
These days, I don’t just see rain as an inconvenience that makes my hair frizz or the roads slippery. I see it as an ally during dry stretches, a nuisance when there’s too much and root rot threatens my leafy babies, a coworker that softens the ground so I can pull weeds more easily, and sometimes an antagonizer that somehow makes the weeds grow twice as fast overnight.
But more than anything, the rain feels like a reminder of growth.
Growth for our family. Growth for our business. Growth in myself.
And maybe that’s why this season feels especially meaningful. While the gardens are soaking up another rainy spring, kids everywhere are moving up too — graduating from grade levels, leaving schools behind, and stepping into new chapters of life. It doesn’t really feel like an ending to me. It feels like the beginning of something bigger. A season of growing into who they are becoming.
Can I Work in the Daylilies?
A surprisingly serious question from our 8th grader, who is moving on to high school and slowly beginning to trade some youthful impulsiveness for maturity. For years, he has asked if he could get a job — specifically at Souder’s Farm. He wants to make money so he can buy a massive, obnoxiously loud truck with equally irritating lights. Honestly, I expect nothing less from a young teenage boy.
But after countless conversations about work ethic, teamwork, responsibility, and showing care for others, it felt like we were finally getting somewhere when he asked if he could work in the daylilies instead. He said he wanted it to be his first real job before eventually working for someone else.
In the past, the kids would “help” on the farm only if they felt like it. But lately, both of them seem to view the daylily farm differently — not just as work, but as an opportunity for themselves too. Maybe all this rain this season has brought a growth mindset to our whole family.
A Different Kind of Teacher
I taught 4th-6th grade for 15 years before moving into the private sector. It was one of the best decisions I ever made for my family, but I still miss the teachers, students, and parents I got to work with over the years. Recently, a parent messaged me to say “thank you” because her daughter had just graduated high school and still remembered me fondly after six years. Being remembered by a student years later feels a little like winning a Nobel Prize. It’s such an incredible honor.
Now, my focus on learning and development looks a little different. I care deeply about teaching my stepkids the kinds of things that help them become good, capable human beings. I watch teachers pour into their lives every day, and I appreciate them more than I can put into words. I truly hope every teacher gets to hear, at some point, the impact they made on a child’s life.
But lately, I’ve started realizing the farm is a teacher too.
Living on the farm provides an education that can’t really be taught in a classroom. The kids are learning responsibility, patience, teamwork, problem-solving, and pride in caring for something bigger than themselves. They are learning that growth takes consistency. That beautiful things require hard work. That some seasons bring sunshine while others bring storms.
As Colt and I continue building Daylily Connection, I’m noticing the kids beginning to take ownership too. What used to feel like “helping out” now feels more like investing in something they care about. I’m excited to see what lessons this season brings our family as we work side by side among the blooms, the weeds, the rain, and the sunshine. The beauty that comes after the rain, grows in the sun, and ultimately exists because of God.
The Future of Daylily Connection
Lately, I’ve found myself wondering if we are growing the next generation of daylily growers. Flower lovers. Farmers. I think every farm family carries a quiet hope somewhere in the back of their minds that the next generation might continue what they started.
As I look out across the daylilies, I imagine Matt and Sheila digging, weeding, planning, and sharing this beautiful place with others. What pride they must have felt watching it grow over the years. Did they plant and build all of this hoping Colt, their only son, would one day become a flower farmer too? When Sheila got sick, did she know Colt would continue caring for the farm for her? That maybe, someday, her grandchildren would continue it even further?
Just yesterday, Lily worked beside me pulling milkweed while Colt repaired the carport. In moments like that, I can almost picture Sheila smiling down from heaven.
If you didn’t grow up around farming, continuing what your parents built can seem like a foreign concept. At first, it felt that way to me too. But I’ve started realizing that when farmers share their life’s work with their children and spouses, they’re really passing down something much deeper than land or flowers. They’re passing down trust. Confidence in the generations to come. Hope that the work will continue long after they are gone.
And farming, much like life, comes with rainy seasons. Some storms bring growth. Others bring challenges. But through all of it, there are lessons here that can’t fully be taught in a classroom. Lessons about patience, hard work, resilience, faith, and caring for something bigger than yourself.
It’s special imagining the kids becoming part of this place in their own way, adding their own story to something that was already growing long before we arrived.
The Maple Tree Parallel
Last year, an apple tree that Matt and Sheila planted around the time Colt was born fell during a strong storm. That tree had grown alongside Colt in many ways, just as Daylily Connection had grown alongside their family. It feels surreal to me that a tree planted nearly 40 years ago came down during the same season Colt and I stepped in to help carry the farm forward.
The old apple tree stood behind the carport where we check out customers during open season. It provided shade on hot summer days, comfort during long afternoons, and had quietly become part of the experience of visiting the farm. This year, Matt decided to plant a maple tree in its place.
There’s something deeply meaningful about that to me.
Even now, Matt continues looking out for us, trying to shelter us from the hot sun and rainy seasons he already knows we’ll face because he’s lived them himself. The maple feels like more than just a replacement tree. It feels like a symbol of a new generation taking root.
As Colt and I continue growing the business, that tree will grow alongside us. Its branches will stretch wider as our family does too. Hoyt and Lily will grow up beneath it while customers gather in its shade during future open seasons. Someday, long after this season has passed, I wonder what our lives — and this farm — will look like when that maple is fully grown.
Ending with Gratitude
Every day I spend working on the farm, my gratitude grows a little deeper. I’m so proud of the family I get to be part of — a father-in-law who trusts us with something he holds so dear, and step kids who continue to surprise me as they show interest in and care for something their family built long before I came along.
I’m also incredibly grateful for the customers who will walk the farm with us this summer, creating memories among the blooms and becoming part of this story too.
This season feels different somehow. The gardens are growing, the kids are growing, and little by little, the future of Daylily Connection feels more real than ever.
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