Radishes and tomatoes produce fruit at different paces. In life and leadership, the same is true. The seeds we sew harvest at different times, some faster, some slower.
Radishes vs Tomatoes
I had a random, nostalgic thought this week about gardening with my Paw Paw. It could have very easily just been wishful thinking of warmer, spring temperatures too! Either way, the concept of radishes and tomatoes popped into my head.
Gardening with him as a kid was something I cherished and the process created lifelong memories for me.
Radishes
As spring approached, we would begin the process of preparing the soil. We would remove rocks, till the soil, and break up large clumps of dirt with a screening device he constructed. The Condition of the Soil mattered.
Once the soil was prepared, I would lobby him to get the radish seeds in the ground shortly thereafter. It was always the first thing we planted.
Being that radishes are a root vegetable, they aren’t as prone to the late Georgia frosts. The ground insulates them for the most part. They require very little maintenance and are pretty easy to grow.
So, why my sense of urgency? Because it produced fruit the quickest! Did I ever eat the radishes? Nope! To this very day, do I enjoy eating them? Nope! It was all about the easiest path to the earliest harvest.
Radishes didn’t require much work to bear fruit. The harvest was successful, just not satisfying.
Tomatoes
The process of growing tomatoes was drastically different. They required a lot of maintenance: frequent fertilization, application of timely Epson salt, and precise pruning. It took hard work.
There was an eagerness to get them in the ground; but, because we put them in the ground as a plant, not a seed, we had to be keenly aware of the last frost. One frost could take out the entire crop.
Once we got them in the ground in late April/early May, they still wouldn’t produce fruit until a couple of months later. It was a long time to wait for my favorite item from the garden. A plump, juicy, and perfectly red tomato! It required patience in the process.
Tomatoes required hard work to bear fruit. The harvest was slow, but always satisfying.
Conclusion
When I spent the night at my grandparents’ house, the first thing I would do was run outside and check on the garden.
When it was radish season, I would look for the top of the radish to emerge from the soil, just enough to see the size of it. When it was big enough, I would pull it from the ground. It brought me instant happiness, but temporary satisfaction!
Then, that was the end of it. I really don’t even know what happened to it from there. I always assumed my Maw Maw ate them because Paw Paw was a meat and potatoes kind of guy.
Now, tomatoes were a totally different story. As bad as I wanted my first tomato sandwich of the season, I had to patiently wait for it. Even as the tomato started to turn from green to orange, it took discipline to make sure that it wasn’t picked too early.
When I bit into that sliced tomato, wedged in between two pieces of white bread with mayo and just a bit too much salt…the wait was worth it. The hard work that was put into the process was completely sustainably satisfying.
We live in a world that craves radishes. Maybe not literally, but figuratively. The quickest way to get to the finish line, with the least resistance. To produce results, without the associated hard work. A worldly desire to experience temporary success, but still hungry for satisfaction.
We need more tomato people in the world. The ones that recognize the value of sustainable success. Success that lasts beyond today. The art of hard work and the value of patience that produces a bountiful harvest in our lives and in leadership. One that leaves us fully satisfied.
So, ask yourself this question. Am I a radish or a tomato? You decide.
