I took an evening walk past the library and saw a notice about a volunteer gardening project.

On impulse I signed up.

By the following weekend I was kneeling beside raised beds with six other volunteers, pulling stubborn weeds and laughing at how quickly my knees complained.

A retired carpenter showed us how to brace the planter boxes.

A college student asked me what to grow where the sun only reached for half the day.

I gave him an answer and realized, with a strange surge of pride, that I had knowledge people wanted without needing to prove I deserved to be in the room.

Afterward we drank lemonade under a shade tree.