Talk about excitement–this week the students transplanted their bean sprouts into the garden–woo-hoo! Pull those seed journals out and get scribbling because we have things to report! Now, before we go on, let’s acknowledge the (sad) fact that not all seeds germinate. As in nature, some make it and some don’t. Glancing over the seed trays, it was apparent several of ours didn’t sprout. But why?
It’s simple really. Beans are like Goldilocks. They like their soil not too wet, not too dry… actually. they like it just right. And as their trusty gardeners, it’s our responsibility to maintain proper germination conditions. As their supervisor, it was an issue I wanted to explore.
“If yours didn’t sprout, I want you to dig for your bean.”
The burrowing began. “Hey–who stole my bean!”
Peering over his shoulder, he wasn’t telling tales. There was definitely no bean in the soil. “Now, let’s not be too quick to judgment, kids. There could be another reason your bean is missing.” Met with suspicious scowls, I continued, “Remember, your beans are heavier than the light fluffy dirt. If you flood your seed tray with water, the seeds can float to the soil’s surface.”
“Hey,” another perked to attention. “Mine’s mushy.”
“Why do you think that happened?”
The pointed finger flew through the air. “She watered my sprout too much!”
“Oh she did, did she?” You see, much like adults, it never tends to be our fault. It was someone else. I’m sure of it.
Another bean came up dry. Actually split into two pieces. He frowned. “Mine didn’t get enough water.”
“You see, just like in nature, if there’s not enough rain or too much sun, the seeds won’t grow will they?” Heads swung from side to side. Not one to commiserate, I exclaimed, “How about we plant the ones we have!”
The kids jumped to attention. “Okay!” Well that was easy. Guiding them to the correct row, the kids weeded the bed and tilled the soil.
Plants do prefer soft beds. Next, we dug holes twice the size of our sprout’s root ball.
Gently–and I do mean to emphasize gently–we removed the sprouts from their containers and placed them into the awaiting holes.
“Okay, now, same as a castle, let’s build a moat around our sprouts. This is called a well and it will collect the water, directing it straight to the sprout’s roots.”
Oh, ho–do these kids know about building moats! They went straight to work and formed the most beautiful wells you’d ever want to see. (It’s all about the lingo. Speak in kid terms and you can communicate anything!)
Stepping back, surveying our handiwork, we had to admit, these transplants looked great. We’re going to have ourselves one lush row of limas to be sure. But better than the ample harvest on our horizon was the sheer cooperation these kids demonstrated. Transplanting bean sprouts can be tricky business. Many of the kids needed help transferring their delicate sprouts from tray to dirt and you know who helped them?
Their fellow students. To watch as one child took charge and assisted the other place his hard-earned sprout into the ground warmed this mother’s heart. Weeks of watering and tending their trays really made an impact on these kids–to the point they felt a vested interest in the outcome of their transplant. Which doesn’t bode well for our co-op concept. (Kids are funny that way — they’ll remember exactly where their sprout is and make sure everyone knows it’s theirs.)
But that’s okay. It all works out in the end. One thing I’ve personally discovered is that if you want to get a child to eat vegetables, have them grow them themselves. I’ve never seen so much plucking of fresh veggies and popping them in their mouths as I have in this garden!
But who can blame them? They are gorgeous, aren’t they? Definitely a feat to be proud. We’ll worry about doling out beans later. For now, we simply enjoy.