“We’re rich!” exulted a third grader while his classmates huddled around the next spot in the row of potatoes about to be overturned with a spading fork. Each time the fork pushed up a potato, six small hands made a grab at the emerging potato and three voices exclaimed, “There’s one,” or “Look at that one,” or “Here’s another.” It was as if we were digging gold instead of Kennebecs and All-Blues.

I kept thinking that the youngsters would get tired of digging, or grow bored with finding yet another potato. They didn’t. Instead, they were as thrilled at the appearance of each one as it was uncovered, and they exclaimed over and over at how many potatoes they found. They marveled at the big potatoes, adored the tiny ones, and ran around showing each other the funny shaped ones, ones with knobs or bumps, ones that looked like a heart or a teddy bear.

These potatoes, grown in my garden, planted by the 4-H club in the spring before disbanding this summer, were destined to become lunch at Islesboro Central School for these potato-diggers and their classmates. The school horticulture program had formed a goal of feeding the school children and staff on island-grown food, and I was one among other island gardeners who “grew a row” for the school. Actually, I let the young people have four rows about 36 feet long and a couple of hundred pounds of food resulted, which was stashed in the new root cellar at the school.

It was their connection between potato-plenty and potato-wealth that delighted me. The kids really got it about true riches: enough potatoes to get through the winter leaves me feeling rich, or at least cocky, about facing heavy snow and cold weather. Add frozen corn or canned tomatoes, pickles and chutney, and I feel like a millionaire.

Then there is the aesthetic appeal of garden vegetables. This year, I grew Tiger Eyes and Jacob’s Cattle beans for drying. Jacob’s Cattle beans are engaging, each with their unique patterns of purple splotches and spots. Tiger Eyes, amber colored with reddish mahogany swirls, look like they ought to be made into jewelry. My young friend Tres Martin patiently shelled out a pile of Tiger Eyes for me one Saturday afternoon while his dad and I worked over tomatoes for sauce. Eleven-year-old Tres gazed at the beans and said to me seriously, “I never thought I would say a bean was beautiful.”

Tres really got it about the pleasure of beautiful food. Compared to a Tiger Eye, a plain white Great Northern or an all-red kidney is a major snore.

The seed companies are acutely aware of the appeal of beautifully colored vegetables. Catalogues feature purple, yellow, or “cheddar” cauliflower in addition to the traditional white; long purple green beans that actually do turn green when you cook them; multicolored carrots; heirloom tomatoes in yellow, orange, purple, and green with stripes; and that spectacular chard with bright yellow, pink, orange, and red stalks. They sure appeal to me. This year I grew peppers, and a basketful of glossy red, green and yellow peppers is so alluring that I could bury my face in them, mouth wide open and teeth bared.

I simply can’t get the same buzz off a package of pre-prepared viands: strip away the plastic and what emerges looks like two-week-old leftovers and the primary flavor is salt.

How can you miss? Grow beautiful food and feel rich. If third graders notice the connection between a mound of potatoes and prosperity, why don’t more grown-ups? If an 11-year-old treasures a shiny jewel-like bean, why do adults settle for drab ones?

Ben Hewitt, a keynote speaker for the recent Island Institute’s Sustainable Island Conference, maintains a blog on his website. In one blog entry he writes, “The root cellar is nearly full, and the freezers almost overflowing with what amounts to frozen sunshine: berries and butter and grass-fed beef. It’s an absurd, almost embarrassing store of wealth, though I can’t help being struck by the fact that the majority of my fellow Americans probably wouldn’t see it the same.” (http://benhewitt.net/2011/10/04/the-end/).

Obviously, not everyone can grow 144 feet of potatoes in the thin, rocky soils or the clay muck some islands offer. Still, you’d be surprised at how many potatoes you can grow in a barrel by sticking a few sprouting spuds in some dirt and keeping a growing top 12 to 15 inches long surrounded by adding leaves, compost, or straw as it rises up through the barrel. In the fall, tip the barrel over and there you go. For beautiful beans, Scarlet Runners planted in a big pot on your back porch will send up winding stalks with brilliant flowers and pods that yield gorgeous beans.

I know, I know. Potatoes are cheap; 20 bucks can buy you a 50-pound bag. Most beans when cooked turned brown. Go ahead and be that way if you want. I’m here to tell you that it’s more fun to stick a spade in the ground and see a dinner emerge than to pull a 20 out of a wallet. It’s a winter-long joy to look in the pantry and see multi-colored beans lined up glowing in their jars. And I know a bunch of little kids who agree with me.