At Season’s Change

by Sr Nunother  

When I think of fall, I think of mums — robust orange, red, and yellow — profuse and sturdy, taking a last floral stand before winter prevails.  They evoke memories of my father, who tended his flower gardens with infinite patience.  He wasn’t a perfect man, but he was a perfect gardener, coaxing beauty from the rich Pennsylvania soil that surrounded our home.  Two multi-colored strip gardens of mums bordered our yard and starred in their own autumn display.  I was proud of my father’s workmanship and found in it love he was sometimes unable to express.  I didn’t receive his gardening gift.  But I did receive, either through inheritance or observation, his love for beauty and respect for its presence in our world.

This entry was posted in Beauty, Seasons, Thanksgivings by Sr. Nun Other. Bookmark the permalink.


About Sr. Nun Other

May 16, 2012, completed my 30th year as a Sister. It was both a milestone and just another day in an interesting journey. Some of those thirty years included singing with Gloriae Dei Cantores, marching in Spirit of America band, and serving on our Sisters Council. As a monastic, I live surrounded by beauty and within a frame work of opportunity and possibility. I'm sixty-four (much to my surprise) and extremely grateful for my life as a sister - past, present, and future.

One thought on “At Season’s Change

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *