Clara grows plants. Upon waking in the morning, tending to her plants is the first thing she does. She checks whether their leaves have drooped overnight or if any pests have appeared. She touches the soil surrounding the plants; if it is bone-dry, they need water. When watering, she must soak the soil thoroughly and then wait for the excess water to drain away completely. The timing of watering matters, too; early morning or evening is best. Even if the plants look thirsty or overheated under the blazing sun, one should not water them in the middle of the day. Doing so causes the water temperature inside the pot to rise rapidly, which can rot the roots and turn the tips of the leaves black.
Air circulation is also crucial. Ventilating the room at least once a day is essential; windows should be left open while cleaning or cooking. Without proper air circulation, the leaves quickly wither. Temperature and humidity levels matter as well—conditions should be neither too hot nor too cold, neither too dry nor too humid. By nurturing these delicate living things, Clara has developed a keen, sensitive awareness. It would be fair to say that the plants are nurturing Clara, too, as she draws vitality and energy from them.
When she looks at the short trees in the apartment complex garden or the tall trees along the main road, she feels the presence of God, the Creator of all things. There is something truly wondrous about trees that radiate such vibrant green life, even without anyone specifically tending to their air, water, temperature, and humidity. One cannot help but marvel at the natural phenomena—the alternation of day and night, the blowing winds, and the timely rains—that align perfectly to provide exactly what these trees need. A tree, firmly rooted in the ground yet growing toward the sky, resembles a monk at prayer.
In the redwood forests of California—home to the world’s tallest trees—it is said that the trees grow with their roots intertwined. Some of them are as old as two thousand years. Because their roots touch and support one another, they do not stand alone against fierce winds and heavy rains; instead, they lean upon each other’s roots to remain standing.
Like those trees, the couple Clara and Augustino feel a deep connection. Augustino’s strong roots support Clara’s more fragile ones. Clara, having honed a delicate sensibility through tending to plants, never forgets to care for the precious, everyday essentials—air, water, temperature, and humidity—that healthy individuals might easily overlook. I reflect on the meaning of togetherness. Two distinct individuals spent a quarter-century side by side; though they faced trials, they endured them because their roots were intertwined.
Yet the Lord said, "You have received my grace in abundance. My power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore, I will most gladly boast of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell within me (cf. 2 Corinthians 12:9).
I reflect on weakness. Love is the act of willingly permeating one another’s weaknesses. In doing so, we come to sense the presence of God, the Creator. I, Clara, wish to live a vibrant, flourishing life alongside my spouse, Augustino, like a monastic in prayer, with our roots deeply intertwined.
