Kim’s lima bean seeds symbolize having hope for the future even in the midst of bleak circumstances. For Kim specifically, planting the lima bean seeds symbolizes her hope that she’ll be able to grow a garden and connect with her father’s spirit—he died before she was born, and he used to be a farmer, so she hopes that gardening will help her find a sense of closeness with her late father.
Kim plants her seeds early in the spring—long before it’s warm enough for the seeds to do well—and in an unlikely place, hidden from view behind a refrigerator in an abandoned lot. Given her lack of knowledge and their less-than-ideal location, it seems unlikely, if not impossible, that they’ll grow. But, against all odds, the seeds begin to sprout. Wendell, an elderly man who waters the struggling bean sprouts at Ana’s request, discovers that the seeds were only able to sprout in these difficult conditions because the shiny refrigerator bounced light and heat back onto the soil, creating a small area that’s warm enough to support the seeds. Though he’s usually a cynical, closed-off person, Wendell takes this as a sign that it’s worthwhile to hope for the better, even when it doesn’t seem likely that things will ever improve.
Indeed, Kim’s choice to plant her lima beans in the vacant lot is only the first hopeful act that ultimately leads to the establishment of the community garden. And later, both Sae Young and Florence also position the bean seeds as a symbol of hope. After grappling with her husband’s sudden death and experiencing a traumatic assault, Sae Young spends years isolated in her apartment, fearful of the world and other people. But when she sees a girl (presumably Kim) tending to lima beans in the community garden, it spurs Sae Young to slowly but surely reengage with the community and rebuild her life. The lima beans—and the garden more broadly—show Sae Young that despite all of the trauma she’s faced in the past, hope is not lost for a better future.
The novel comes to a close in early spring, a year after Kim first plants her lima bean seeds. Florence, who loves watching the goings on at the garden, describes seeing an Asian girl digging out in the garden—presumably, Kim planting next year’s crop of lima beans. Florence worries all winter that people will lose interest in the garden and that it won’t resume in the spring, but Kim’s planting gives Florence hope that the garden will continue to thrive.
Lima Bean Seeds Quotes in Seedfolks
I dug six holes. All his life in Vietnam my father had been a farmer. Here our apartment house had no yard. But in that vacant lot he would see me. He would watch my beans break ground and spread, and would notice with pleasure their pods growing plump. He would see my patience and my hard work. I would show him that I could raise plants, as he had. I would show him that I was his daughter.
I never had children of my own, but I’ve seen enough in that lot to know she was mixed up in something she shouldn’t be. And after twenty years typing for the Parole department, I just about knew what she’d buried. Drugs most likely, or money, or a gun.
I tried a new spot and found another [bean], then a third. Then the truth of it slapped me full in the face. I said to myself, “What have you done?” Two beans had roots. I knew I’d done them harm. I felt like I’d read through her secret diary and had ripped out a page without meaning to.
“What are they?” she asked.
“Some kind of beans.” I grew up on a little farm in Kentucky. “But she planted ‘em way too early. She’s lucky those seeds even came up.”
“But they did,” said Ana. And it’s up to us to save them.”
Out of nowhere the words from the Bible came into my head: “And a little child shall lead them.” I didn’t know why at first. Then I did. There’s plenty about my life I can’t change. Can’t bring the dead back to life on this earth. [...] But a patch of ground in this trashy lot—I can change that. Change it big.
Vietnamese girl was working there, picking beautiful lima beans. A man and a woman on other side, talking over row of corn. Hear man say his wife give him hoe for birthday. I want to be with people again. Next day I go back and dig small garden. Nobody talk to me that day. But just to be near people, nice people, feel good, like next to fire in winter.
It was a little Oriental girl, with a trowel and a plastic bag of lima beans. I didn’t recognize her. It didn’t matter. I felt as happy inside as if I’d just seen the first swallow of spring. Then I looked up. There was the man in the rocker.
We waved and waved to each other.