When I go to San Francisco General Hospital, I enjoy walking through the mini-park areas, and on my second-to-last visit I finally discovered the name of one of them.
Indeed I have slowed my progress in heading home many times, and seen lovely things here, even in mid-winter. This was a single bloom, popping out early in a warm week in January...
The garden is well-situated, kept from strong winds and somewhat warmed by the southern-facing brick building that gives the sun's warmth back even after the sun has passed by.
On this particular day I took time to explore the garden in detail, and found this ... one feels very alone when wondering if one's tests will reveal cancer, but indeed this beautiful place offered me refuge from those thoughts ... and then I found this.
The poem does not speak of the things I was thinking about bearing alone -- it says nothing about sickness and suffering, but about the abundance of common grace, in spring, with keen observation, for night jasmine and lavender, even in San Francisco, are not things of the winter.
To live to see another spring ... it is such a blessing, and it is not one that we can hoard ... every day is given to everyone, without cost, and in the Northern Hemisphere, spring is given to us all to take joy in. In the Southern Hemisphere, autumn is likewise given, and around the Equator, all the wonders of everlasting summer are given as everlasting winter is given to the poles. We cannot embrace it all ... instead, we are given all of that to embrace us.
Despite the bigotry and hatred that is openly being espoused again in many parts of the world, all of these things are given to all of us, and we will also pass through this time.
As I said, it turns out I don't have cancer ... but maybe I had to go through that to bring these things from the comfort garden ... things that I do not have to bear alone, but can let them embrace and comfort us all.
(Also from that January visit!)
