Read by Matilda Longbottom

When I was a child, parsley was nothing more than dried shards in a glass jar with a green lid—a hint of green, leaning toward grey, that only came to life in festive stuffing or holiday recipes. It was there, in the background, adding something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but it never took center stage.

Fast forward to my grown-up years. Married, expecting my first child and tending to the garden of our new home, I stumbled upon a scraggly patch of parsley. Out of curiosity, I nipped off a piece, gave it a nibble, and experienced a revelation: fresh parsley was THE thing. Suddenly, I couldn’t get enough of its vibrant, grassy taste.

This new obsession led me to raid supermarket shelves for fresh bunches and pots, each promising longevity they rarely delivered. Determined to keep a steady supply, I bought a packet of parsley seeds and filled my kitchen windowsill with little trays of seedlings. They grew painstakingly slowly, but it was worth the wait.

Even after my parsley craving eased—somewhere around the time my baby arrived—I kept the windowsill garden going. Fresh parsley wasn’t just delicious; it was versatile and packed with nutrients. It became my culinary secret weapon. A sprinkle of chopped parsley could transform even a budget-friendly tin of soup into something “fancy” (or so a visiting friend once thought).

By the time weaning began, I knew parsley would feature heavily in my children’s meals. Sure enough, one of their favorite lunches was thick lentil dhal with melted cheese and fresh parsley.

Growing parsley turned into a family affair. I even tried putting the kids to work, weeding the outdoor bed. But children being children, five minutes of weeding inevitably turned into ten minutes of munching on the crop. My dream of having a parsley garnish for the weekend buffet gave way to the reality of two happy, healthy little ones munching their way through their favorite green food.

In the end, parsley gave me more than a garnish for fancy dishes—it gave me moments of joy and connection with my children and a sense of accomplishment in nurturing both a garden and a family. ❖

About the Author: Fiona M. Jones writes short, evocative fiction, nature-themed nonfiction, and occasional poetry. Her monthly opinion column, Climbing Out of the Box, explores nature, nurture, and education through personal anecdotes and reflections. You can find her work at Vine Leaves Press or on her website: https://fionamjones.wordpress.com. Fiona lives for moments where gardening meets storytelling—like this tale of parsley that grew alongside her journey as a mother.