The Pope died a few days after Terri Schiavo died. The reports of his failing health and the grief following his death have largely pushed the reports of her passing from the public scene.

I can't help noting the contrast between the two. He was loved by people who did everything possible for him in the last months of his life. Terri was loved by people who would have done everything possible for her but were stopped by one individual who held the power of life and death over her. He had medical help for the complications that developed to prolong his life; she was denied medical help as much as her husband could order it to hasten her death. He had a feeding tube in his last days; she was denied one.

What made the Pope so much more valuable than Terri Schiavo that he got such compassionate treatment while she was warehoused and ultimately starved to death? He was considered a light to the world of Christ's love and wisdom by many. Terri was only an ordinary woman from a devout birth family, just living her life the best she could before the injury that led to her disability.

At the very end the Pope was unable to continue with his duties. Others had to take his place to deliver messages during Easter services. He was clearly dying, clearly unable to rally and rise to a useful life again. Yet no one removed his feeding tube or other forms of life support. No one kept his church family from surrounding him and comforting him, even in his last moments.

My conclusion is that it wasn't the value of the Pope's life or Terri's life that made the difference, but the values of the people who held the power to help or harm them. The Pope was a beacon of the culture of love and life that is the basis of Christianity, surrounded by millions of lesser lights who follow that same culture. Terri was only a small light in the hands of a husband who followed the culture of death, a man supported by others whose values are based in that same culture of death.

There were crowds of Christians praying for the Pope, supporting a religious establishment that valued even a dying life. There were crowds of Christians praying for Terri, too, opposed by a secular establishment that recognized no value in this living but disabled life. Even the Pope's opposition to the withdrawal of food and water made no difference to her husband, the medical personnel who withdrew the feeding tube, or the judges and police who enforced his wishes.

The Pope will have a funeral and be laid to rest in honor. His extraordinary life will be marked with recognition even in his death. Terri was cremated after a quick autopsy whose results won't be known for weeks and her ashes will be hidden at her husband's direction. Her birth family won't even have the comfort of a Christian burial for her or a grave to visit. Her ordinary life will be marked with dishonor at the end.

I started this blog to record the humor and beauty of my gardening, expanding it to cover other aspects of my life. I intended it as a glimpse into the little marvels of even an ordinary life, if one will only stop and look for them. One effect of a chronic illness is that one must slow down to the pace one's ailing body will allow. It isn't that I take time to smell the roses so much as I catch a whiff of fragrance that would be missed if I rushed by at the usual pace of most lives.

Unfortunately, it also means that I see a lot more of the thorns of life at times. I don't dwell on them often here, preferring to record the good and leave the bad to the media. Most people see and hear plenty about the bad things already without my repeating them. However, this thorn has scratched me deeply.

I still do share a human curiosity about life with those who rush about productively contributing to society, a human appreciation for the little beauties and pleasures around me. Terri did as well in the few short years of her youth before her injury. I wonder how many she still might have known if she had been in her parents' care, allowed therapy and the opportunity to have contact with the outside world. I wonder how well any of us would have done if we had been cut off from the world in a small, dull, carefully secluded room for year after year.

Terri will not be forgotten in her death. I'm prodding my legislators with emails about the judges and the culture that allowed her death in such a cruel and unusual manner. I still get out and vote and they will hear about my anger over her mistreatment. I want these political thorns uprooted and replaced by judges who do value human life and will rule in its favor.

In the meantime, I poked a few tomato and pepper seeds into small containers of potting soil yesterday. I should have done it several weeks ago, but the cabbage and broccoli seedlings are still under the plant lights. They ought to go out now as well. We may finally be past the serious night frosts at last, in time for warm spring weather. It is still rainy, but at least it is often warm rain.

I've been spending some time outside on the terrace swing, enjoying the sunshine. The back yard is covered with purple violets, dotted with a few white ones. The grass is getting very shaggy, but it won't be mowed for the violets' sake. They have to set seed and spread it in the lawn to ensure more violets for next year. Once the flowers fade the garden will get its first mowing, marking the start of the serious gardening season for this year.