What Parsley Can Teach Us

I was feeling a bit paranoid and gloomy for macro and micro reasons, and also for reasons that weren't reasons at all, really—it's winter in these parts, for one thing, and one's mood can turn Norwegian in a hurry. Today I noticed that some parsley in the refrigerator was feeling similarly sorry for itself. About four days ago I had bought a bunch, used some, and then put the rest of it in a small glass of water in the fridge. That water evaporated, and today the parsley was wilted and droopy.

I gave it more water and put it in a sunny window, and now, not long before midnight, portions of it are looking like new. And this is a plant that was cut off from its roots, OK? It's doomed. But it's demonstrating resilience all the same, doing the best it can. I have to say it—I admire that parsley.

When I was a kid, I read a story about a Roman soldier named Horatius who defended a bridge across the Tiber against invading Etruscans. Very heroic, Horatius was, and I admired his bravery. (Legend says he survived and was rewarded with as much land as he could plow around in a day.) I really hadn't thought much about Horatius since I was seven or so. But I didn't need his example today, did I? I face challenges, the way anyone does, but if I can muster as much strength of character as that bunch of parsley is demonstrating, I guess I'll be OK.