grief

Tending My Piece of the Garden

Sometime decades ago—so long ago that I don’t remember when—I knew my purpose in life was to tend to my little piece of the Garden.  Watching my mother, it’s no wonder I felt like this. When she left a campsite, Mom would ensure it was meticulously clean. She wanted us to always leave things better than we found them.  Hours before leaving for Christmas dinner at her parents’ home, Mom would find out that our cousins were bringing a stranger. She always had general gifts ready. Mom’s way of wrapping family warmth and love around a stranger was to make sure there were presents under the tree with that person’s name. She included a stranger in our family for the evening. How could I have a different approach to life? “I am the Light of the world…the Holy Spirit who lives in you can...