Good & gracious God, you who are power & wisdom & goodness— Bless this tree, a sign of life & freshness & perseverance in our midst. May it stand as a reminder of light in the dark of night, and of life in the dead of winter. May its supple branches & sharp, sweet scent keep fresh in our minds & our hands the mercy & generosity you show in all your dealings with your beloved people.

Dear C—,1 This past Sunday, on a cool & bright New York day with the edges of autumn just beginning to creep into the last days of summer, you were baptized. Like autumn into summer, you may find the fact of your baptism—something in which you had no say & of which you have no memory—creeping into your life in strange & unexpected ways; you may not know quite why you were baptized; you may wonder what the point of your baptism was at all.

In the very year of our engagement, Lady Bird was released. Toward the end of this magnanimous film the titular character meets with her English teacher, Sister Sarah Joan, to discuss a short story she wrote for class. That wise nun comments how clearly Lady Bird’s love for Sacramento comes through, much to Lady Bird’s—and the viewer’s—surprise. Up till now we have seen Lady Bird straining at the borders of her hometown