The Ugly Vegetables

In the spring, I helped my mother start our garden. We used tall shovels to turn the grass upside down, and I saw pink worms wriggle around. It was hard work. When we stopped to rest, we saw that the neighbors were starting their gardens, too.
“Hello, Irma!” my mother called to Mrs. Crumerine. Mrs. Crumerine was digging, too. She was using a small shovel, one that fit in her hand.
“Mommy,” I asked, “why are we using such big shovels? Mrs. Crumerine has a small one.”
“Because our garden needs more digging,” she said.