These Things Abide

After the freezing temperatures of the past few nights, most of the garden looks pretty sad. Tender plants have collapsed in sickly green puddles and once lush leaves are are withered. But the pyracantha berries are a cheerful sight, bright and gleaming, now that I've ripped away the blackened morning glory vines that had covered them.

Green and vigorous, the Italian flatleaf parsley is ready to do its part as a breath freshener, a garnish, or an ingredient. I picked a bunch last night and cut it with scissors over the pilaf that was our supper.

And the hardy purple sage is ready to flavor our Thanksgiving turkey. The beautiful pebble-textured leaves are so strong smelling that I don't find many other uses for them. But I'd grow sage just for its good looks.

These three abide.

I wrote my title -- meaning only to refer to some plants that were hanging on but was immediately reminded of the Biblical verse "And now abideth Faith, Hope, and Charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity."

Good words, even if they are attributed to Paul, probably my least favorite of the presumed authors of the Bible. He just doesn't seem all that loving -- Charity being from the Latin caritas which means love.

In this dark season, as the economy plunges daily, I'm afraid we're going to need a good bit of all three -- faith, hope, and charity.

Good grief -- and here I was talking about what's left in the garden. I didn't mean to go all gloomy and portentous on you.