Jenkins was far too stubborn to ever admit it, but Martha made me promise that we would pass that kindness along for the rest of our lives so no family on this road would ever face an empty pantry.”

Dad gestured toward the vast garden rows filled with community members.

“So Martha expanded the garden year after year,” Dad explained warmly.

“Every Saturday, she opened the garden to anyone in need without asking questions or requiring registration.

On Friday mornings before sunrise, she loaded up the truck to deliver boxes directly to shut-ins, elderly folks, and those too proud to seek help publicly.

She kept that tradition alive for forty long years until she fell ill, and her very last words to me in the hospital were to ensure I never stopped the Friday deliveries.”