My name is Mara, and I grow vegetables so my family can eat—not for clout, not for fun. Every tomato means fewer groceries to buy. I don’t have the luxury of fences or extras. Just early mornings, sore hands, and hard-earned food.
It started when my neighbor Julian set up a “Sharing Shelf” nearby. Nice idea—until people treated my garden like a free-for-all. Kids trampled kale, adults grabbed cucumbers right off the vine. When I said something, they smiled like I was being rude.
I put up signs. A rope fence. I asked for basic respect. One man told me he “needed” my cherry tomatoes for a date night. Julian shrugged and said I should “just share.” But this wasn’t generosity—it was theft dressed in feel-good slogans.
So I installed motion-triggered sprinklers. Problem solved—thieves got soaked, and word spread fast. One girl returned with an apology and cookies, staying outside the fence. That day, I smiled. Lesson learned: ask, and I’ll probably say yes. Take without asking—expect rain.