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.