Constable: Teen, immigrant neighbor plant seeds of understanding in Winfield
Our nation sometimes gets bogged down in looking at our differences, whether that's skin color, political affiliation, ethnicity, religion, native language, age, gender, economics, education, geography or some other label that tends to divide.
A teenage girl and an immigrant grandmother found a most natural way to connect as backyard neighbors in Winfield.
With the pandemic forcing her to stay home at the end of her junior year at St. Francis High School in Wheaton, 17-year-old Maddi Donlevy started looking for something to occupy her free time this summer.
“I liked gardening as a kid, but we never had time to do it, and I was too impatient to do it by myself,” says Maddi, who lives with her parents, Dan and Kellie, and sister, Emma, who is planning to start at DePaul University in the fall. Maddi found some inspiration from her grandmother, Carol Lee Borter of Wheaton.
“My grandma gardens, and her tomatoes and potatoes always taste so good,” Maddi says.
The teen started modestly with a few packets of seeds.
“I bought watermelon, pumpkin, radishes, tomato, peppers (sweet and hot) and zucchini,” says Maddi, who started growing them in pots inside. “It was really just something to do.”
Wanting to do her garden right, Maddi soon had big ideas. She bought lumber and used power tools to construct a raised garden that is 3 feet wide and 24 feet long. She also prepared two plots in the ground, one 17 feet by 2 feet, and the other 17 feet by 6 feet.
“Yeah, it's a lot,” Maddi concedes.
Neighbor Saide Aliu, 58, an Albanian immigrant who grew up near the ancient city of Bitola in what is now North Macedonia, lives in the house behind the Donlevys. Saide spends time with her granddaughter, who turns 4 in August, in their backyard that abuts Maddi's gardens. The grandma planted a garden, too.
“She was very smiley and she laughed a lot,” Maddi says of Saide. “The first time I really talked to her was when I was fixing up the place for the raised garden. She would point and be interested, but when I tried to tell her what I was doing, she would say, ‘No English.' She understood what I was doing, but she couldn't say what she wanted to say.”
Saide lives with her son and his wife, and their three daughters, including twins who were born on May 7. It's a busy household, fluent in English and Albanian. Speaking only Albanian, Saide still found a way to forge a relationship with Maddi and her family.
“It's hilarious when I see them outside, both of them talking,” says Saide's daughter-in-law. “We like our neighbors.”
In an attempt to organize her garden and bridge the language gap, Maddi put up signs with the names of every plant in English and in Albanian. “I just did it because I'm generally friendly,” Maddi says.
While “Summer Cucumbers” mean nothing to Saide, the “Kastravee” sign means the world to her. Maddi says “Tomato,” and Saide says “Domate,” and the signs bring them together.
When Saide figured out what Maddi was doing, she wanted to help.
“Oh, I've got to give her something to start her garden,” the grandmother said in Albanian to her family.
“She went to her garden, dug up tomato plants and gave them to my dad,” says Maddi, who says she was touched by the kind gesture.
Kellie Donlevy was impressed enough to post the story on Facebook. “Life was being shared between two families that don't even share the same language,” the mom wrote. “My beautiful daughter and our lovely neighbor have shown by example that hope begins where we do all we can to understand each other.”
Just as a single “Hot Pepper” plant can yield enough “Speca të nxehtë” to share with the neighborhood, that simple story spread online, where reader Luanne Triolo Newman reached out to tell me about it, and now I feel compelled to share the story with you.
In a few weeks, the gardens of Maddi and Saide will produce a bounty of nutritious foods. But the true bumper crop will be their example of a healthy harvest that offers hope for a kinder world.