Pondering Hope in Everyday Moments
Just above freezing, the air was crisp and clean this morning on the way to Mass. There was some fall color, but most of the leaves on the pecan trees had fallen. Still, it was a scene of serenity and beauty as I pondered the scene in silence.
I was so grateful to have the freedom to go to Mass and worship, and I prayed for all the beautiful young men and women who have died in too many wars to guarantee that freedom. May they rest in the glory of the beatific vision.
It’s late afternoon in the garden, and it’s November. The coral-colored blossoms on the yucca have turned into dry stalks (pictured above right). But there’s something about a hidden garden that’s always intriguing, even to its owners.
The shady side of the garden is my favorite spot, especially in the heat of summer.
But the sunny side has its appeal as well, even in November when most of the blossoms have gone. The potted olive tree on the left is only two years old. This year it produced some ripe olives. (Yes, Gentle Reader, I did taste one off the tree. Big mistake.)
If you look closely through the branches of the olive tree, you will see an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe gazing down upon it all.
This is Mary’s Garden.
My November garden is looking a little ragged these days. The leaves on the sedum, plumbago, and vitex are fading. At the same time, there are bright spots. The cherry sage is in bloom, and the roses are still providing a few offerings. The holly berries have turned a brilliant orange-red. I will rely on them to cheer me through the winter.
When I went out to survey the fading glory, one perfect rose caught my eye. I gave it to my husband.
It occurs to me that splendor can come in a single package.
Contemplation Garden 