July 14, 2025
Remembering Melissa Spearing
Preface by David Milne
In the early morning of Aug. 20, 2024, I learned of Melissa Spearing’s sudden passing. I’ve known her parents, Sandy and Ted, for some time now, and always look forward to visiting their nursery. I only came to know Melissa through social media and was unaware of the connection to Sandy and Ted. I quickly discovered Melissa was an energetic woman who cared deeply about family, friends and the natural environment. I think my love for growing plants from seed is what really caused me to connect with her initially. A common appreciation for food, cooking and travel also resonated with me. That, and a shared love for our untamed spaces. I know there are many, many others who feel the same way.
While waiting for her memorial service to begin, I took the opportunity to read a booklet that was distributed. I deeply appreciated being able to learn more about Melissa. But it was an article she had written for the family nursery that really hit home. Not only did I get to learn more about Melissa, I also saw that she knew our horticultural and landscape profession is in real need of young people to further it along. Bringing in new people with new voices is vital to the growth of our field. But we also need people who have experience and personal knowledge to step up and become mentors to those just beginning their career. I instantly felt compelled to share that message with a wider audience.
I wish I had the opportunity to meet Melissa in person, but her message will stay with me for a long time, and I am very pleased to share it with you here to mark the anniversary of her passing.
Back in 1997, our catalogue featured a story on local nursery owner, Harold Moxon. He was an obvious influence on his family, my dad and the community: an honest, humble horticulturalist raising a large family through the Great Depression and beyond. When I read the thank you letters addressed to my parents, it made me realize the immeasurable value of what we are all capable of and that as my dad has said in years past, “A nursery can be much more than a nursery.”
And now it is my turn to be eternally thankful. As the oldest daughter in the Spearing clan, it is with great excitement and determination that I have left my advertising job in Toronto to return to Ground Covers Unlimited. Landing a job with my parents was not as easy as it might seem. They did their best to emphasize the hard work, long hours and fresh air, but as much as my parents keep throwing us out into the real world, the Spearing kids seem to boomerang back.
I wrote the cover letter for our 25th anniversary catalogue in 2004 on the theme of how agricultural roots prepared me for the “real world.” Turns out the real world was expensive, tiring in its rat-race pace and aggravating when you see others with so little responsibility for themselves and the environment. At work I felt personally guilty printing advertisements on Forest Stewardship Council (FSC) certified paper, selling SUVs. It was one thing to scold my roommates for not recycling, but another to have to participate in the corporate double standard of promoting consumerism candy-coated in conservation. While I was good at advertising, I found my efforts plagued by nagging doubts in its sustainability and true value to our society. And then, as if sleeping on a gold mine, I realized the tremendous opportunity lying under my nose at home. I have come back to the potato patch finally knowing the contentment in making the right choice.
Having a family-owned nursery brings to light the fact that the green industry’s sustainability is based on more than how we grow a plant. Our current shortage is the “who” — young people considering this a worthy career.
Equally important is the necessity to pass your knowledge onto them. I am extremely lucky my parents are willing mentors for knowledge that is not easily accessible (not many growers have time to write textbooks or post blogs!).
But wanting to learn begins with knowing the option is available. Your mentorship can be responsible for lighting the fire of enthusiasm in a young person. The offer of a first job or access to resources is often the open door that is needed. Young people are already interested and energetic about environmentalism: this industry needs to continue cultivating that interest. They look at what we do with new perspectives and technology.
This new enthusiasm can collaborate with your well of practical knowledge for real working efficiencies. This kind of open-minded decision-making will only go further in promoting ourselves as a cornerstone to the green movement, not another two-faced contributor to its demise.
However, my few years in advertising were not a waste by any means. Continual contact with friends and coworkers is enticing them out to the nursery to learn more about horticulture.
I have advanced my marketing, computer and IT skills enough to bring some time-saving benefits to this business already. I haven’t figured out a way to download my parents’ brains into mine. I guess I’ll just have to learn the nursery trade the old-fashioned way.
In the early morning of Aug. 20, 2024, I learned of Melissa Spearing’s sudden passing. I’ve known her parents, Sandy and Ted, for some time now, and always look forward to visiting their nursery. I only came to know Melissa through social media and was unaware of the connection to Sandy and Ted. I quickly discovered Melissa was an energetic woman who cared deeply about family, friends and the natural environment. I think my love for growing plants from seed is what really caused me to connect with her initially. A common appreciation for food, cooking and travel also resonated with me. That, and a shared love for our untamed spaces. I know there are many, many others who feel the same way.
While waiting for her memorial service to begin, I took the opportunity to read a booklet that was distributed. I deeply appreciated being able to learn more about Melissa. But it was an article she had written for the family nursery that really hit home. Not only did I get to learn more about Melissa, I also saw that she knew our horticultural and landscape profession is in real need of young people to further it along. Bringing in new people with new voices is vital to the growth of our field. But we also need people who have experience and personal knowledge to step up and become mentors to those just beginning their career. I instantly felt compelled to share that message with a wider audience.
I wish I had the opportunity to meet Melissa in person, but her message will stay with me for a long time, and I am very pleased to share it with you here to mark the anniversary of her passing.
Melissa’s story in her own words
(Reprinted from the Ground Covers Unlimited 2008 catalogue)Back in 1997, our catalogue featured a story on local nursery owner, Harold Moxon. He was an obvious influence on his family, my dad and the community: an honest, humble horticulturalist raising a large family through the Great Depression and beyond. When I read the thank you letters addressed to my parents, it made me realize the immeasurable value of what we are all capable of and that as my dad has said in years past, “A nursery can be much more than a nursery.”
And now it is my turn to be eternally thankful. As the oldest daughter in the Spearing clan, it is with great excitement and determination that I have left my advertising job in Toronto to return to Ground Covers Unlimited. Landing a job with my parents was not as easy as it might seem. They did their best to emphasize the hard work, long hours and fresh air, but as much as my parents keep throwing us out into the real world, the Spearing kids seem to boomerang back.
I wrote the cover letter for our 25th anniversary catalogue in 2004 on the theme of how agricultural roots prepared me for the “real world.” Turns out the real world was expensive, tiring in its rat-race pace and aggravating when you see others with so little responsibility for themselves and the environment. At work I felt personally guilty printing advertisements on Forest Stewardship Council (FSC) certified paper, selling SUVs. It was one thing to scold my roommates for not recycling, but another to have to participate in the corporate double standard of promoting consumerism candy-coated in conservation. While I was good at advertising, I found my efforts plagued by nagging doubts in its sustainability and true value to our society. And then, as if sleeping on a gold mine, I realized the tremendous opportunity lying under my nose at home. I have come back to the potato patch finally knowing the contentment in making the right choice.
Having a family-owned nursery brings to light the fact that the green industry’s sustainability is based on more than how we grow a plant. Our current shortage is the “who” — young people considering this a worthy career.
Equally important is the necessity to pass your knowledge onto them. I am extremely lucky my parents are willing mentors for knowledge that is not easily accessible (not many growers have time to write textbooks or post blogs!).
But wanting to learn begins with knowing the option is available. Your mentorship can be responsible for lighting the fire of enthusiasm in a young person. The offer of a first job or access to resources is often the open door that is needed. Young people are already interested and energetic about environmentalism: this industry needs to continue cultivating that interest. They look at what we do with new perspectives and technology.
This new enthusiasm can collaborate with your well of practical knowledge for real working efficiencies. This kind of open-minded decision-making will only go further in promoting ourselves as a cornerstone to the green movement, not another two-faced contributor to its demise.
However, my few years in advertising were not a waste by any means. Continual contact with friends and coworkers is enticing them out to the nursery to learn more about horticulture.
I have advanced my marketing, computer and IT skills enough to bring some time-saving benefits to this business already. I haven’t figured out a way to download my parents’ brains into mine. I guess I’ll just have to learn the nursery trade the old-fashioned way.