Sunday, June 27, 2010

A Rose



It is summer here in New Jersey and the temperatures the last few days are surely proof. Yesterday I spent some time at St. Augustine Church in Newark, venerating the relics of our Blessed Mother Teresa. The temperature in the small mission church must have been near 90 degrees. But how appropriate was that - as Mother served the poorest of the poor in the conditions of the day - hot or cold. And most of the time in Calcutta, it was well over 100 degrees F., sometimes as high as 120 degrees.

The roses in Brookdale Park are blooming. Many thanks to those volunteers who care for the garden, weeding and pruning and feeding. So does our Lord with us - weed, prune and feed - making us more beautiful than the roses.

When I walk through the rose garden, I think of all those who I love - those here, those gone. If you get a chance today, take a walk in a rose garden.

The Rose Family by Robert Frost

The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But now the theory goes
That the apple's a rose,
And the pear is, and so's
The plum, I suppose.
The dear only knows
What will next prove a rose.
You, of course, are a rose
But were always a rose.


* Image @bjm

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