The first tomato

"And the LORD God planted a garden in Eden, in the east; and there he put the man whom he had formed. Out of the ground the LORD God made to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food." — Genesis 2:8-9

The first real tomato came in this morning. Not the cherry tomatoes, which have been coming for a week now and which I have been eating in the garden like a woman with no self-control. This was one of the big ones. A Rutgers. Red all the way through with no green shoulder left and warm from the vine and heavy in my hand in a way that a cherry tomato is not heavy because a cherry tomato is a snack and a Rutgers is a meal.

I brought it inside and put it on the counter and looked at it and it looked like July. I do not know how else to say it. It looked like every first tomato I have picked since I was old enough to know what I was holding, which is most of my life.

My mother used to say the garden would tell me when it was ready. It has been telling me for a week with the cherry tomatoes and the beans and the zucchini, which has slowed down but not stopped, and now with this tomato it has said what it has been working up to since I put the seedlings in the ground in May.

I am going to eat it for lunch on white bread with salt and mayonnaise and nothing else because there is nothing else a first tomato needs.

Lord, thank you for the first one.

Ruby keeps a collection of prayers at her kitchen table. You can find them here.