The garden at Tau House has always been a focal point for our community. It's a green postage stamp nestled between Tau House itself, two neighbors and a massive brick wall that in another era separated the world from the Carmelite sisters. One neighboring building is much taller than Tau and has several apartments in it. When I look up from our garden, especially at night, I am sometimes reminded of Blanche Dubois' place in the Quarter. There are little balconies, clotheslines and every now and then a moment of music drifts down from someone's radio.
I never cease to be amazed at what these little courtyard gardens are able to accomplish with a couple hours of sunlight, water, and an occasional shot of Miracle
Gro. Without care, they become jungles of vines that eat away at whatever is in their way. With care, an incredible array of colors, shapes and textures mingle and respect each other.
Roses don't often do well in the climate of New Orleans. It's too warm, too humid. Fungus takes its toll on the rose plant. We have one rose in our garden. For most of the year it's the proverbial stick in the mud. Fr. Ralph told me someone gave it to him years ago. He didn't know what to do with it so he stuck it in the ground near the pond. I don't know if he was aware that that spot gets the most sunlight of all in our garden. It is much less than the six hours that defines "full sun." Perhaps it gets three hours. So our plant manages to store whatever energy comes its way. Last year it graced us with three or four blooms during the month of December. What you see at right was the best. Lo, how a rose....
On Sundays at 4:15 a wonderful gathering of colors, music, people of all shapes and sizes and beliefs happens at Tau House. Please join us for prayer.
