Names, Names

I saw this cafe in Paddington Station last week and I loved the utter Britishness of its name.

Names are so important, don't you think? Shakespeare said "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet," but I'm not sure I agree with him.

My name, Theresa, means "reaper." I used to think that was a bit *grim* of a meaning (wink wink nudge nudge), but now I love it. A reaper gathers in good things. My namesakes- St. Teresa, St. Therese, and Mother Teresa- gathered in souls for God. I hope that my life will too.

Last night my friends and I talked about our favorite names. Right now mine is Lydia Rose. Because I love that name, and because roses are my favorite flower, here is a poem for you this morning. You deserve it.

The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple's a rose,
And the pear is, and so's
The plum, I suppose.
The dear only know
What will next prove a rose.
You, of course, are a rose--
But were always a rose.

Happy Tuesday morning, The Book Girl