One year ago, a special niece sent me a miniature rose bush for Mother’s Day. It was tiny and full of red flowers and rosebuds. I placed it in a sunny window, watered it often, and fed it with sticks of fertilizer, knowing that roses are heavy “feeders.”
Suddenly, the plant started to fail. I didn’t know why. On the leaves, no aphids or mealy bugs were in sight. However, its beauty was slipping away, as the leaves turned yellow and fell all over the old table upon which the plant was sitting. Now, the forlorn plant sat there, mocking my efforts to keep it alive. With nothing to lose, I decided to plant it outside, where it would either thrive or die.
This past winter, we had a lot of snow and hardly saw bare ground at all. The rose was protected from the biting winds by the soft, gentle cushion of the natural “batting” against the elements. In the spring, I noticed the color green coming back into the stems. I carefully snipped off the brown, dead ends of a few branches, shaping the plant at the same time.
The miniature rose, today.
My efforts have been rewarded. Today is the first day that I have seen a full, red rosebud, just about ready to open.
What is my point in sharing this seemingly ordinary information? Philosophically, I read a lot more into the situation. Have you heard the expression, “Where there is life, there is hope?,” or this one: “Hope springs eternal in the hearts of men?”
To me, this rose bush is a symbol of life itself. Sometimes, we do not have a way of knowing the outcome of a situation, but if we try our best, and seek all solutions, something beautiful may result. In this case, it did.
The rose bush is a constant reminder of the love shared between my niece and I. We are only nine years apart in age and have always been close. I feel so lucky to have her in my life. She is as sweet as can be, and will always hold a special place in my heart. Yes, the rose bush is saved, and is alive and well, in New Hampshire. Even a small triumph over death feels good.
Patricia Cummings
Quilter’s Muse Publications
A lovely story. thanks for sharing.
K