A man I know recently described how, when traveling on a bus in Africa — where many roads look like something Americans would reserve for all-terrain vehicles — he'd had an unexpected encounter with the power of encouragement.

Navigating such rutted routes is a formidable task. He noted that his fellow passengers would repeatedly, and with great enthusiasm, cry out a phrase that sounded to his ears like "ay-kushay." As he watched more carefully, he realized that this was a kind of cheer they made each time the driver successfully avoided a pothole.

His story brought to mind the friends I made when I lived in China. Seldom have I seen people work as hard, or live with so little. In addition to showing a generally uncomplaining and positive attitude, they demonstrated something whose effectiveness finally makes sense to me. As they'd wave me on my way, they'd unfailingly call out, "Do your best," "Take your time" or "Enjoy yourself!"

It wasn't until I got back to the United States and no longer heard these things that I realized how much I'd appreciated such sources of encouragement. They had a lovely sound to my ears — and they were empowering.

To "encourage" each other, literally meaning "to give heart," is one of the most beautiful, godly gifts we can share. Perhaps the very scarcity of encouragement in daily life is what has so many feeling weary, fearful and uninspired.

A good reason to cultivate encouragement is that its opposite, discouragement, tends to breed complaint and criticism like weeds. Falling prey to these, which do nothing to draw us near to God, is all too easy, but surprisingly, practicing encouragement instead doesn't require much more effort.

As always, my best teachers about encouragement are those two young people who were supposed to be have benefited from my parenting over the past couple of decades. I often think the main benefit they derived was from watching me repeatedly make mistakes that they could choose not to repeat.

That's possibly what helped teach them the real value of encouragement, too, and they've picked up a few creative ideas about how to share it.

For years, I'd wanted to plant a vegetable garden but avoided doing so out of fear of failure. This probably stems (and I promise not to fall into any more plant-related phraseology) from a discouraging remark someone once made about the hue of my thumb and the quality of my previous efforts.

Whether or not our son is aware of this botanical neurosis of mine, he did a curious thing one spring weekend, announcing, "It's time to have a garden here this year."

I assumed that he, a plant lover with emerald-green growing capabilities, was going to implement and take charge of this idea, especially when, within hours, he'd borrowed equipment and proceeded to till up most of the backyard so that we had no choice but to plant one.

Then he became increasingly unavailable. I was stunned, then anxious, as I (and our neighbors) continued to survey that sea of churned-up earth each day.

Finally, desperate, I asked my friend Judi if she could help me get started. She's someone who's seldom intimidated by anything — and her company was an immediate reassurance.

We had a fine time that day as we shopped for plants and seeds and then put them in together. My anxieties seemed to melt away. She continued to offer me lots of encouragement, as did my son whenever he noted and admired some new addition I'd made.

Then one summer day, when something very discouraging had happened in his own life, he threw himself into helping me create a beautiful perennial bed, and we both felt wonderful afterward.

As my growing plant kingdom daily taught me more about life and character traits (you can try to get rid of weeds by covering them up, but eventually you have to pull them out by their roots), it also showed me that encouragement tends to breed more of itself.

Neighbors started stopping by to cheer me on, and I got to thank them later by giving away some of our harvest. The time that I spent digging in that soil included some of the hours I've felt closest to God, too.

One of the purposes of the teachings of the Baha'i Faith is to help make visible the reality that God's creation is like a wondrous garden in which all races and cultures are intended to live as one family. Baha'is hope that our own experience of cultivating unity among all people, challenging as it inevitably is, will be a source of encouragement to all.

Many prayers and passages from the faith's writings urge being "a joy to the sorrowful," "a balm to the suffering," "a dew to the soil of the human heart."

If love and encouragement can benefit one humble little garden, imagine the possibilities in each and every one of our relationships.

"Think we'll have a garden again this year?" my son asks, with an encouraging twinkle in his eye.

"How soon can you borrow the rototiller?" is my reply.

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Phyllis Edgerly Ring, mother of two, is a writer and editor. Her current book project addresses how adults can recognize and nurture children's spiritual nature. She is a former program director at Green Acre Baha'i School in Eliot, Maine, and has been a member of the Baha'i Faith for more than 30 years. Email her at {email columns@bahai.us}columns@bahai.us{/email}. See the website of the Baha'is of the United States for more information. © copyright 2007 by Phyllis Edgerly Ring.