Green fingers of promise

Hello friends, warm greetings to you all from my homestead.

This morning, as I walked through the garden, I stopped to admire a bunch of bananas hanging on one of my plants. The fruits were still green, firm, and tightly packed together, pointing down like rows of fingers. I stood there for a while, just looking at them, and the thought came to me: these are green fingers of promise.They are not ripe yet, not ready for harvest, but they already carry the weight of tomorrow’s food and blessings.

Bananas do not rush. From the time I planted the sucker until now, many months have passed. I watched the leaves unfold one after another. I saw the flower appear. Then the small buds formed, slowly swelling into the green fruits that hang before me today.Every stage required waiting. This bunch is another reminder that patience is never wasted. Growth is steady, not sudden.

The bunch I looked at this morning was heavy. The plant is not a true tree, yet it carries so much. Its stem is soft inside, just layers of rolled leaves, but it still holds firm. Sometimes I place a wooden stick under the stalk to give it support. Without that, the plant might bend or break under the load.

Watching this, I thought about life. Even the strongest among us sometimes need support. A little help, like that stick, can make the difference between breaking and standing tall.Many people celebrate bananas when they turn yellow and sweet. But for me, there is a beauty in their green stage. The fruits shine with freshness, the skins smooth and strong, the bunch perfectly arranged as if nature placed each one by hand.There is promise in that green color. It speaks of what is coming, even though it has not arrived yet.

As I stood there, I realized the green bananas were teaching me lessons without saying a word:

Good things take time. Nothing ripens in a day.

Strength doesn’t always look strong. Even a soft stem can hold a heavy load.

Support is not weakness. Asking for help is part of survival.

Growth is quiet. The plant doesn’t make noise, but its fruits still appear.

Seasons matter. Today the bananas are green, tomorrow they will be ripe.

These lessons are not from books. They are from watching a simple bunch of fruit in my garden.Though still green, I know these bananas already hold many meals for my home. Some will be boiled, some fried, some roasted, and some left to ripen into sweet fruit. None will be wasted.

I also know that when harvest time comes, I will share with friends and neighbors. Because bananas always give more than one person can finish alone.

One thing I respect about banana is its sacrifice. After this bunch matures and is harvested, the mother plant will wither. It will not produce again. But already, at its base, I can see new suckers growing. They will take over and continue the cycle.

The mother gives her all to produce fruit, then steps aside. That is a lesson in giving — pouring yourself out for others and allowing the next generation to rise.The plant carrying this bunch has faced wind and rain. Some of its leaves are torn and battered, but t it stands tall, still it produces.

That resilience makes me respect it even more. Life can strike us, storms can break parts of us, but as long as our roots remain strong, we can still produce something good.

For me, bananas are not just food. They are part of my homestead story. Each bunch I see reminds me that nature is generous. It gives freely when we take care of the soil and wait in patience.Every time I see green bananas hanging, I feel reassured that there will be provision tomorrow.

As I left the garden this morning, I turned back for one more look at the bunch. The green fingers were still hanging quietly, swaying a little in the wind. They are not ready yet, but they are coming.

That is why I call them green fingers of promise. They remind me that patience brings reward, that giving is the purpose of growth, and that no season lasts forever.One day soon, they will turn yellow and sweet. But even now, in their green state, they are full of meaning and hope.