Green Spiral at Death's Door

Yesterday the rare white fir called Green Spiral (another weeper for the Mary Garden) looked quite brown. The day before it looked a little brown. I thought it had enough water or too much, but yesterday I realized it needed much more--was crying out "I thirst!"

I pray Green Spiral survives. It was the only tree of its kind in the nursery, and it is a beautiful tree even at death's door.

The hermit otherwise needs to water some rose bushes. Just one more rose bush needs to be moved and trellises built. Rain is to come, hopefully, soon. The Weeping Bald Cypress needs water, also.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta often inspired her sisters to think of Jesus' thirst and to live their difficult lives in doing all they could with the poor to satiate Jesus' thirst. I suppose for a hermit, His thirst could be slaked with deep acceptance and the living of the rule of life, of much prayer for the poor and all people, all problems, for family and friends and strangers.

Today the hermit got the habit fairly well established. Took back the rust-colored garb and got sale rack black and brown tops to go with the seed-buried-in-the-soil theme. Of course, I couldn't resist some pj's for my grandchildren, hopefully the kind my daughters will like for the babies. A book caught my eye, too, and although I need to curtail the spending, it seemed a worthwhile purchase for a touch of love later on to a child from its grandmother.

Although a misfit and not a particularly good mother, I do care and love, and so can do what I can do, and only that. It is not much and not enough, but it is something. I pray it slakes some thirst out there, for someone. As I checked out, I laughed with the clerk who had patiently credited the several returns, and now was folding the items I purchased. We laughed as I said that this is how the store keeps people coming in and out, stays open, and provides jobs! I have one or two items to return, and I will mortify myself to not take anything back out, or if so, limit myself to two items, hopefully something for possible guests here at Agnus Dei.

We slake Jesus' thirst in many ways throughout the day and night, and it can be at a check-out counter as well as anywhere. The cross is where ever is humanity, and a tired clerk thirsts for a good laugh and someone who acknowledges her weariness after a long day.