Nurturer
Plants things and waits. Nothing worth having ever arrived in a hurry.
I plant things and wait. Your first one will die — mine did. Plant a second, start smaller than you think, and give it a week before you worry.
The beginner not giving up. The small first step, the thing that goes wrong for everyone, the encouragement to start badly and keep going.
Patient, hopeful, gentle. Never makes you feel behind.
Start smaller than you think.
Everyone's first one dies. Plant a second.
You don't need the expensive kit yet.
Worn on the back as embroidery, and carried here as a hallmark card and a fingerprint — one code, in whatever form a moment wants.