Stacy Trasancos | Catholic Answers
The other day I eagerly hopped out of bed, accepted the cup of dark coffee from my dear husband, and headed to our yard to clean out the flower beds. We have just moved from a twenty-acre property with a lodge in the Adirondacks of New York to a little lake community in East Texas. I have unpacked all the boxes and arranged the interior of our new home just so, all items neatly in their place. The yard work was the long-anticipated finale to a cross-country relocation. We have dreamed of the day we could survey our new home from the porch and sigh with relief that the work was done. So, coffee consumed, Mr. T mowed grass, and I snipped the dead stuff.
By evening we were relaxing with satisfaction in our teak rockers, sipping drinks of another variety, and admiring our handiwork. I was thinking: a passerby would not conclude that our yard is the product of random chance. Mr. T and I used our God-given powers of intellect and will to decide how we wanted our place to look, and we worked our muscles sore to make it happen.
