them with hope. I’ve tried different locations—more sun, less sun, different soil—yet with little success. This past summer, the plants grew to nearly four feet tall. There was even a single bud promising a bloom. But before anything could come of it, the frost came, and everything was lost.

This morning, Our Lord gives us the Parable of the Sower and the Seed. Anyone who has ever tried to grow a garden understands exactly what He is saying. If the ground is not properly prepared, if the seed does not receive sufficient water, light, and care, there will be no harvest. A fruitful garden does not happen by accident. It requires intention, patience, and ongoing attention. Good soil must be worked, protected, and tended over time.

My experience with those dahlia tubers is a reminder of this truth. Growth alone is not enough. Height does not guarantee fruit. A single bud does not mean the work is finished. Without the right conditions—and without perseverance—what begins with promise can easily be lost.

So it is with our souls. God is the generous Sower. He never withholds His grace. He scatters His seed freely and faithfully. But our souls must be ready to receive it. They must be cared for with love and sustained by perseverance. Prayer cannot be occasional. The Sacraments cannot be treated casually. Vigilance cannot be sporadic. The spiritual life demands a real commitment—one that is renewed daily.

We know the old saying: Rome was not built in a day. Neither does a garden bear fruit overnight. Growth takes time. Fruit comes only through steady attention. Like a careful horticulturist, we must remain on watch—removing what chokes growth, nourishing what is weak, and protecting what is vulnerable. Without that discipline, even what seems strong can wither.

This is why the Church places this Gospel before us now. Sexagesima is a time to take stock. Lent is drawing near. God will once again pour out His grace in abundance—but grace demands a response. The soil of our souls must be tilled, softened, and made ready.

May we use this approaching Lent well. May we tend the garden of our souls with renewed seriousness, so that when the time of harvest comes, we may not stand empty-handed, but instead draw closer to Our Lord and grow deeper in holiness.