My street ends at a cul-de-sac and a fence topping the bank along the expressway. Someone planted flowers there including orange trumpet vine and a variety of roses that climb the fence. Yesterday morning I saw an almost perfect pink rose high up on one of the bushes. Near the ball fields I stopped to look at a pretty variegated rose in someone’s flower bed. My rosy day wasn’t over. Imogene Valero brought me a vase of very beautiful pink, yellow and large lavender roses. When I saw the rose at the end of the road I had thought how this rose turned out healthy and beautiful even though it wasn’t privileged and tended like those in people’s yards, especially Imogene’s. And yet it thrived. Then I thought about all the wonderful, talented people who have come out of the poorest neighborhoods, not having the care and help that many others have. I have a special admiration for urban neighborhoods like Reynoldstown and Edgewood where there is a mix of housing and where educated individuals are encouraged to live as resident mentors for others. This week’s travels have taken me though some rough looking neighborhoods and that gave me the opportunity to pray that God would help those living there have a good life. No matter where a rose may be planted, it’s still a rose.
Dear Lord, Help us not to judge people by where they live or how much money they have. Help us to see all as people created by and loved by you. Amen.
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