Let Us Give Thanks

Let Us Give Thanks

By Max Coots

Let us give thanks for a bounty of people:
For children who are our second planting, and, though they grow like weeds and the wind too soon blows them away, may they forgive us our cultivation and fondly remember where their roots are.
Let us give thanks:
For generous friends…with hearts as big as hubbards and smiles as bright as their blossoms;
For feisty friends as tart as apples;
For continuous friends, who, like scallions and cucumbers, keep reminding us we had them;
For crotchety friends, as sour as rhubarb and as indestructible;
For handsome friends, who are as gorgeous as eggplants and as elegant as a row of corn — and the others — as plain as potatoes, and so good for you.
For funny friends, who are as silly as brussels sprouts and as amusing as Jerusalem artichokes, and serious friends as complex as cauliflowers and as intricate as onions;
For friends as unpretentious as cabbages, as subtle as summer squash, as persistent as parsley, as delightful as dill, as endless as zucchini, and who — like parsnips — can be counted on to see you through the long winter;
For old friends, nodding like sunflowers in the evening-time, and young friends coming on as fast as radishes;
For loving friends, who wind around us like tendrils, and hold us despite our blights, wilts, and witherings;
And finally, for those friends now gone, like gardens past, that have been harvested — but who fed us in their times that we might have life thereafter;
For all these we give thanks.

Source: the late Rev. Max Coots, who was Minister Emeritus of the Unitarian Universalist Church in Canton, New York. His passion for gardening yielded this beloved and much used meditation.

A facebook friend of mine shared this poem and I thought it was kind of perfect for today.

Happy Thanksgiving my friends!

Love, Michele

The “new normal”

I read an article in the Boston Globe Magazine today by former US Poet Laureate Robert Pinsky about his experience during the marathon bombings and the idea that many, if not all of us, will live at a “new normal.” He refers to a poem written by a Brazilian poet, the late Carlos Drummond de Andrade, that describes the security of normal as being “ancient.” The poem talks about the different things that one might take for granted until their gone or until one’s world is changed by something that threatens their security. It ends with the lines “They had gardens! They had mornings in those days!”

I don’t have permission to use it so I won’t publish the poem myself but you can read the  Globe article here. It met me right where I am today.

I think that we’re getting there. As I promised on Wednesday we got outside and planted away that afternoon. We turned beds over, planted spinach, peas, more lettuce, carrots, shallots and of course, radishes.

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Our new normal still has gardens. Our new normal still has mornings.

I hope more than anything that we can reclaim the  feeling of security that we took for granted for so long.

I think we will.

Thank you so much for all of your support and kind comments over the past week.

We’re going to be just fine.

Love,  Michele