The little vine appeared in the vegetable patch. It was hidden at first, barely noticeable among the strawberries until it tried reaching for the sky.

“What this?” Stew asked.

“Not sure.” There’d been many things planted in that bed. What could make a reappearance now? A late bloomer. An early starter? “Hmm, maybe cucumber?”

Our veggie garden is a bit ramshackle. I’m not about ‘rows’. I prefer to let the plants sprout and trail wherever they like. But we’re having a very wet summer.

“Maybe we should lift them up this year, shepherd them to crawl up a basic trellis. That way there’s less chance they’ll rot on the wet ground.”

Stew got to work and produced a basic trellis made of star-pickets and three strands of wire.

The cucumber got the idea straight away and blasted from the cover of the strawberries and nasturtiums and headed up and along the trellis lines. Soon, large yellow flowers appeared along with the bees who dipped from one to the next. Tiny little fruits like tic-tacs developed in fingerlings. Only two of the cucumbers made it through the thunderstorms and baking days. They hung a bit forlornly on the trellis, becoming almost teardrop shaped.

Our visitors, unaware of how quickly things grow in the subtropics, were amazed at the changes they could see each morning. 
“They’re getting SO big.”
“Are you sure the vine will hold?”
“Vines are impressively strong. Ever tried pulling a pumpkin from a vine before it’s ready? I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Still, they grew.
And I’m not even a big cucumber fan.
It wasn’t until one morning I was in the garden with Lily and a cup of coffee that I noticed something I hadn’t seen before.
With our busyness over the holidays, and having visitors, we had failed to see something very important.  Right before our eyes!

I bet you can see what we were blind to for weeks.

I spat my coffee out and laughed so hard I made Lily jump. It was one of those great enjoyable belly laughs where you forget the outside world, until you wonder what the neighbours might be thinking!

The cucumbers were watermelons!

I don’t remember planting any watermelons in that bed, but perhaps the kids had spat some seeds there once. But here they were, being the watermelons they were intended to be, regardless of what we called them.

I really wondered why we hadn’t noticed before. And how many other times we assumed something and don’t see the evidence that’s right before our eyes. I laughed when I looked back at the ‘baby’ photos we had of them, of course they were watermelons.
What were we thinking?

We were thinking everything our brain was telling us was correct, and we didn’t question it at all. AND we had a bit of an illusory truth effect going on there too. Mix it with a little power of suggestion and we all agreed they were cucumbers. (I’m still laughing about it.) Now they’re being cared for as they should; supported on the trellis in their own slings.   

Our little tale reminded me of a section in Crown of Fire, where Ashling speaks about how seeds will produce what they’re meant to produce. It’s an analogy of how we shouldn’t force ourselves to be something we’re not, and become an inferior version of our true selves in the process.
No matter HOW many times we called them cucumbers they were always going to be watermelons!
No matter how many times you’re told who you’re ‘supposed’ to be, your truth will always be evident to those who truly see you, and support you.