A Rose is a Rose

A Rose is a Rose

By:

Karen C. Davis-Solomon

What do wild gourd, tropical sensitive plant and pine cone roses have in common? Deciduous to deserts and farmland, tropical America and Australia and forests, one would think they share no commonality but would be incorrect. Wild gourd grows just as its name suggests, wildly along the ground in deserts and along roadsides or on outskirts of fields. As any gourd does, it vines along but produces a fair lily much like the fragrant lilies of Easter and spring time. However, this graceful blossom is anything but fragrant. Its noxious scent is reminiscent of rotten onions. My Pop pointed this contradictory plant out to me on a “walkabout” when I was about twelve years old. “Everything is not as it seems,” he commented.

Ironically, the foulest part of ‘buffalo gourds’ has proven to be quite valuable to humans. As a natural insecticide, the gourd plant is grown along crops as a distraction to harmful insects, because it is less harmful to beneficial bugs and ground water. The same putrid smelling substance has been found to hinder growth of certain cancerous tumors. Its seeds may also be roasted and eaten.

When I was six, he and my mother took me to Hawaii. I saw splendid sights such as a mountain shaped like a “sleeping giant” and wonderful “plastic” plants. I was completely transfixed and mildly obsessed with looking at the ground where ever I trod after my Pop showed me the Magic Plant. “Touch it,” he coaxed as I bent over the tiny fern-like grass beneath my feet. It promptly curled up! Even the Plumeria, in its entire fragrant splendor did not hold a candle to that tiny magical groundcover!

My newest discovery is pine roses. Truly, little roses which seemed to have been carved from wood and strewn about by Forest Folk and land on the ground after the Ponderosa and Cedar Trees shake their tresses. Their scientific description does little to diminish their charm as they lay strewn about like forest confetti. Actually, the top part of a Deodar Pinecone, their name means Timber of the Gods and they happen when the pinecone falls to earth and breaks apart.

            Holding my pine rose in palm of my hand, I am reminded of those earlier memories and their subtle lessons to “look for the magic” and “not all is as it seems.” God in all His faithful mercy and goodness may seem at times to allow trials in our life. Those trials give way to blessings of strength and wisdom. Similarly, a shining jewel is not always the reputable venture we believe it to be. Life sends us contradicting situations at times, so we must trust our Creator and seek His guidance in everything we do. And we can be sure that Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. (James 1:17)

a little "ditty" i recently enjoyed....

One morning long before the Carpenter was to appear in His shop, the Carpenter's tools decided that they needed to have a conference to settle some of the problems which were steadily arising in their work.

The first tool called to take the chair was Brother Hammer. The meeting informed him that he was to leave because he was too noisy with his work. "But", he said, "if I am to leave this carpenter shop, Brother Gimlet must go too; he is so insignificant that he makes very little impression."

Little Brother Gimlet rose to his feet and said, "All right, but Brother Screw must go also; you have to turn him around and around again and again to get him anywhere."

Brother Screw then said, "If you wish, I will go, but Brother Plane must leave as well; all his work is on the surface; there is no depth to it!"

To this, Brother Plane replied, "Well, Brother Rule will have to withdraw, if I do, for he is always measuring other folks as though he were the only one who is right!"

Brother Rule then complained against 
Brother Sandpaper, and said, "I just don't care, he is rougher than he ought to be, and he is always rubbing people the wrong way!"

In the midst of this discussion, the Carpenter of Nazareth walked in - earlier than they expected. He had come to perform His day's work. He first put on His apron and then went over to the bench to make a pulpit. 

He employed the screw, the gimlet, the sandpaper, the saw, the hammer, the plane, and all the other tools. 

After the day's work was over and the pulpit was finished, Brother Saw arose and said, "Brethren, I perceive that all of us are laborers together with God!"

Do there happen to be any people within your circle of acquaintances who do not perform their duties just the way you think they should?

Perhaps it would be well to think twice before making any criticism or finding any fault with any one of God's instruments of service who is furthering His kingdom here on earth.

If a selfish judgment were made against one of 
God's necessary tools and that tool was removed from his work, who would be the one causing God's work to be delayed?

Streams in the Desert, Vol 2, Mrs. Chas. E. Cowman, Zondervan Publishing House, Grand Rapids, MI, 1966

 penter's tools decidedo appear 

Hope Dust

While dusting this morning, I questioned my efforts, knowing full well that the dust would return. Why do we dust that which only gets dusty again? Why do we make the bed every morning if we are to mess it up again that night? Why do we love when we may get hurt? Why do we give of ourselves when we may never receive? Why do we do our best if only to sometimes fail? Why do we pray when our prayers seem to go unanswered? Why do we live when inevitably, we all must die?

  I remember a Spring Day recently, when my husband discovered baby starlings in a nest in our wisteria vine upon the arbor above our front gate. For the past week, we had been enjoying watching the starling parents build and defend their nest in excited anticipation of the new arrivals. We admired Papa Starling’s continual sentinel from our tree to our flag pole to the nest.  My husband also helped fend off tenacious Scrub Jays from threatening their nest. After climbing the ladder to take a peak myself, my husband left the wisteria untrimmed over the nest and we went about our chores with a lightened step.

            As he had done before when we heard the commotion, my husband came running with broom in hand to help the Starlings fend off the bandits. The Starlings chased Scrub Jay the perimeter of three front yard trees until he seemingly lost the fight. Awhile later, I was shocked to witness Papa Scrub return to the nest and carry off the young. Scrub Jay had killed the babies.  Our help and their struggles seemed fruitless and we mourned the loss of the baby starlings. Mama and Papa Starling cried and squawked as they perched on our fence and their routine sentinel posts throughout the day. Towards sunset, we noticed them returning to the nest with twigs in their beaks. They began rebuilding their devastated home. We had not only beheld the precious beauty of a young bird family nesting and living but had seen first hand the annihilation of their home and young. Now, we perceived life remaining.

            The river of life flows on. We build and sometimes are toppled. We love and our hearts get broken. We give and do our best only to be forgotten or fail. Similarly, sometimes the sick get sicker and the lost seem to disappear regardless of our prayers.   Despite our best efforts and no matter how hard we fight death is inevitable. Are we absurd? Is God not listening? Why do we carry on? Some do not; they give up. They lose hope and their spirit dies. But, like the spider who persists no matter how many times its web is destroyed… although the end result is the death of an insect caught in that web…that life’s work brightens someone’s moment when they gaze upon its intricate lacy beauty illuminated by light or glistening with dew drops.

 Those tiny birds, whose lives were cut so short despite the determined efforts of the parents and community, brightened a moment no matter how brief.  Likewise, it is life which touches other lives. The end does not justify the means when that final breath is breathed. Life is not voided in that moment of earthly and bodily ending. Life remains and is measured by the lives brightened and enriched because we did try and we did love and we did give and we did hope and we did pray and we did live.

“Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord.” Psalm 31:24

It's me again!

I know I have been keeping in touch through Facebook and Bako blogs, however, I missed my....Studio, Doodle Page, Attic, Front Porch Bulletin Board...so, as I am known to do quite often,  I have dusted out the corner, applied a fresh coat of paint and am inviting ya over for a good chit-chat! The latest bats dancing around in me head space are the never ending ideas for our yard. I have also penciled and blogged my first entry in a series I am lovingly calling "The Summer of the Red Sandals." Inspired by a snazzy pair of red heeled sandals I purchased last summer on a whim, I am on the hunt for "growing moments..." those moments when that little voice says, "what will people say" to which I slip into my red sandals and smile sweetly at those "negativity shooters" and plow forward! That word 'plow' brings to mind almost a drudgery of sorts, doesn't it? March is not a better word and trot sounds like something one must do quickly to make it to the bathroom on time! Perhaps "dance" is acceptable...or sing or laugh or play. Actually, any fun-filled, carefree, praise-filled action will do nicely...quite nicely! In fact, my first entry is about learning to dance to "Opa". I pray you will be inspired or merely entertained on my new adventure...

            “I will dance next year,” I told my husband as we made our way to the final tour of the evening and then home. However, my mind wandered as we listened amidst the ornate and beautiful surroundings. Despite the friendly Pastor’s interesting oration of the church’s history, I could not shake the cloud of regret which was forming within me. When the tour ended, I told my husband, “I cannot wait. I want to find Opa!” He smiled and led me back to the Festival Dance floor.

            The band was on break so we settled on a bench. The evening breeze permeated with laughter and wafted delicious aromas as my mouth watered remembering the feast we enjoyed earlier. My husband answered “Last Call” for Spanakopeta and Dolma, wonderful spinach stuffed in dough pockets and grape leaves stuffed with lamb and rice! Loukoumathes, honey puffs, revisited my taste buds as the breeze swirled about.  We saved our baklava and Kourambiedes for next day’s treat.

            “Signo’mi,” the stately elder pointed to the seat next to mine and smiled. “Please do,” I smiled. His younger companion, perhaps his son, asked if I understood Greek. “No,” I replied and smiled again. The gentleman mingled English with Greek just as the evening’s Festival mixed the diversity of our community. “I am 93 years old,” he said raising his cane, “so now I dance from here,” and he pointed to his heart. The evening whirled on and the kind Kupios bid me, “Kalini’hta.”

            As the music played, young and old, male and female, celebrated but it was the women who captivated my attention as they skipped and dipped to the joyous tunes. Their confidence exuded all that the evening proclaimed. The mature women’s grace was unmatched by the young or athletic. I was both compelled to join yet equally intimidated. The dancing also seemed a contradiction between flowing fluidity and crisp sharpness of movement.  I remained transfixed by the beauty before me and hesitant to disturb this lively tapestry painted upon a Spring Evening. After a time arguing with myself, my husband, who knows me too well, said, “Come, let’s dance now.” Twirling me towards the dance floor and the Dancing Circle, the crowd cried, “Opa!”

            Later, as we were leaving, we stopped to thank a young woman whom I had been intermittently conversing throughout the night. We shared giggles as we watched from the sidelines, too shy to join in the confidence before us. However, she had leaped bravely long before I made it to the dance floor! In fact, we had said our goodbyes prior to our attending the Church Tour when we intended to leave the first time. “I just could not leave without dancing,” I told her now. Her friend overheard and smiled, “No regrets,” she laughed. To which we all cried, “Opa!” I had feasted and danced and laughed and learned and made friends from the Greeters to the guests…I had discovered Opa.

            It was an impromptu Spring Festival at St. George’s Greek Orthodox Church. September’s Event had been rained out and they had decided to try again. I will always remember that evening as an earthly example of Christ’s declaration in John 10:10- “I have come that they may have life and live abundantly.”