Seeds of connection: A pumpkin festival, the natural world and life with MND  

Loren Hope (44) is a passionate advocate for te taiao* (the natural world) and the power of community connection. She is the founder of Northland’s Ngunguru Pumpkin Festival and was diagnosed with motor neurone disease (MND) as a young mum-of-two at 34-years-old. 

In response to the progression of her incurable disease, Loren left her teaching role at Ngunguru School in 2018 when she began “tripping over nothing in particular”. She handed on the mantle of organising the festival in 2025. 

The record for the biggest pumpkin at the festival – still held by Loren and her friend Luc – is an impressive 102 kgs. The fourth annual event was held in March this year, attracting well over 100 attendees.

This is Loren’s story told in her own words. Her voice now shines through the eye-gaze technology that she uses to communicate via her Tablet. 

Q. When was the first pumpkin festival? How many people took part?

The first Pumpkin Festival was in 2023. It was really sweet and small, maybe 60 people.  

Q. Where did the idea come from? Why pumpkins? 

We have a beautiful little community garden Ngunguru Mahinga Kai, where volunteers meet and care for the garden. Anyone can go and spend time there and harvest some kai for their dinner, it's a wonderful mana-enhancing project. 

A volunteer and I were speaking about ways to encourage more people to use the space and potentially volunteer. Many hands make light work. The idea of a pumpkin growing contest came up, and I decided to go for it. My passions are Te Taiao (the natural world), growing food and community engagement, so a project that benefits and brings our community together, and encourages growing food – inclusive of all people, was totally worth my time, attention and energy. 

Why pumpkins? Because they have potential to grow ridiculously MASSIVE.  It's a great incentive to join in when there's a bit of fun and light-heartedness to be had!   

Q. What did you do to get the first one started, how did you spread the word, what did you have to organise? Did you have help/support?

The first step was germinating the seedlings. My sons and my helpers planted 100 Atlantic Giant seeds, and another 50 of more tasty varieties of pumpkin. I watched them push out their first leaves, shed their coats and reach for the sun 🙂 So beautiful… I was totally invested in their wellbeing. There are many blessings found in stillness. 

A friend and my son painted a big, beautiful sign, and when the seedlings were big enough, we gave them away outside our house. Over 60 teams registered for koha and took their seedlings. All the seedlings found homes quickly 🙂

I use eye-gaze technology to operate my tablet, so through the blind wonder of the Internet, everything is accessible to me. I could connect with a few other volunteers, advertise on Facebook, create flyers, email sponsors, organise prizes, ask for help, delegate 😉 

The Pumpkin Festival almost didn't happen that first year, because many people lost their pumpkins in Cyclone Gabrielle. But we went for it anyway and it was just lovely. A beautiful sunny day, lots of kids and families. There were different categories to enter from biggest to smallest and boldest to beauties, everyone’s contribution was valuable. They were judged by representatives from different groups of our community. 

One challenging part of organising an event and having motor neurone disease (MND) is handing it over to others to carry out, without being able to communicate easily or help do the physical work. Although it is good practice for loosening our attachments!  😉 

I'm blessed with the best team of wahine who are my hands and legs, and the legendary Shona took care of everything, along with a couple of dedicated garden volunteers, we pulled off an awesome festival.

The following year, 2024, the festival grew to over 100 people. This is where our current record was set by a dear friend Lucia as the grower, and me as the moral-support giver! We hold the record at 102kg!   

We had loads of prizes, facepainting, treasure hunts, games, ice creams, shared kai. That year I had roped in the family to help as well – they pulled it off beautifully and worked so hard. The medal went to Shona who got hit in the arm by a rogue umbrella and kept on going with a serious injury that became apparent that night. 

Q. What does it mean to you to be the founder of the festival? What’s the best thing about it?

Building connected communities is a fundamental value of our family. Our strength is in our relationships. I feel really proud every year when the new team gets going with the pumpkin seedlings. Proud that a seed I planted will grow stronger and bring people together long after I'm not here in my physical body. 

 I also feel a deep gratitude to the people who work as my hands and legs, and increasingly my voice, who helped me to germinate the seed of an inclusive, earth-caring, wholesome way for our community to connect and have some fun.

Q. How has the Ngunguru community reacted/supported/contributed? When did you hand over the festival organisation and who to? 

I organised the first two years, then handed it over to a family who keep winning the big pumpkin prizes and a local teacher, who were all enthusiastic about the whole thing. We belong to a really supportive community, and the right people always join it at the right time. 

I am a gardener. I get joy from cultivating the soil and planting the seeds. Some of them flourish and grow into all manner of wonders cared for by other gardeners. Different seasons and people come and go, all contributing their energy to carry the momentum. The festival is going from strength to strength each year. 

Q. Can you tell us about your journey living with MND? When were you diagnosed? What symptoms did you first notice?

I was diagnosed at 34 years of age. A mother of two toddlers. I was devastated at the prospect of not being with them while they were growing up. I thought I might not even be here for their first day of school.  Only a mother can know that particular anguish. 

It turns out, I did make it! I was still working when my eldest son started at the school I was teaching at. I had a microphone to help the kids hear me as my voice got softer (due to MND) and the kids in the older classes would lend me their hands if there was lots of writing on the board to be done. I gave up teaching at the end of 2018, two years after diagnosis – when I began tripping over nothing in particular.   

My relationship succumbed to the unique pressures that MND brings, and the constant losses that come hand in hand with it. Physical, but also social, financial, ego, sense of value or self-worth, relationships. There are many brutal losses. But, stillness, quiet, surrender – has brought many, many, many blessings in all those same areas.  

Now my eldest son has started high school! And I’m still here to parent my sons through their days. One of the very lucky ones. The biggest gift over these 10 years has been the opportunity to befriend death. Getting curious about the process and the possibilities removes all fear and most of the sorrow.  My biggest learning – that radical acceptance and radical hope are paths to contentment. 

Q. Do you have any advice for others, perhaps including those recently diagnosed with MND? 

If you have been recently diagnosed or are dangling your legs over the edge of life like me – remember that you still have value, you still contribute, you still have mana, you still have learning to do. You don't need to be empowered. You never lost your power; you are capable and have a unique perspective to offer.

We know more than many, that time is precious. Use yours to bring love to the world, in big ways or small ways. It's the greatest gift we can give. Never give up hope but do not go to battle with your illness, lean in and listen to what it has to teach you.

*Te taiao is the Māori phrase for the natural world, environment, nature, or country. It encompasses the land, water, climate, and all living beings, reflecting the deep interconnectedness of people and nature. It represents the environment, world, or nature, often emphasizing the connection between humans and the natural environment.