On Succos, we gather our crops, reflect on our harvest. In life, we gather our experiences, appreciate what we’ve gained

I’m not a gardener. I just look at plants and they die.

The gardener in my family was my mother a”h. She grew kohlrabi in the early 1970s, before anyone had heard of it. She threw out our garbage disposal and created a compost heap next to our house to nurture her garden (anyone missing a dog knew where to look). She also grew me. I go through life watered and nurtured by the years I had her in my life.

A memory: I was 13. She was leaving for a PTA evening at my junior high school, dressed in the usual worn-out jeans, one of her eternal-tomboy T-shirts, and beat-up sneakers.

I eyed her outfit. “Is that what you’re wearing? Why don’t you ever dress like all the other mothers?”

“Do you really want me to be like all the other mothers?” she asked,

Images of many of those other mothers raced through my mind. “No,” I admitted.

“Remember,” she told me, “you have the only mother on the block who can throw a curveball.”

I heard her message. It’s okay to not be the same as everyone else. You don’t want to be the same as everyone else. Embrace yourself and your unique gifts.