The Rose Bush

Once upon a time a rose grew next to a house where a young girl and her parents lived.

Every year it produced the most beautiful deep, crimson roses.

The family in the house loved and admired the roses that the rose bush displayed for them every summer. They tended the rose bush carefully and made sure it received enough water and sunshine, but not too much.

One day the father passed on, and the mother and her daughter were forced to take in a young couple as boarders to help pay expenses.

The boarders turned out to be disagreeable people. They grumbled about everything, including the rose bush. They said it had scratched them and made them bleed.

One day when the daughter and her mother were away from the house selling flowers on a street corner in town, the boarders cut down the rose bush and threw the stems and rose blossoms in the trash.

When the mother and daughter returned, they couldn’t believe what had happened. Their favorite rose bush was gone! All that was left were a few twigs that had been cut all the way to the ground.

The mother and daughter didn’t know what to do, because they depended on the nasty people to help them pay the expenses on their home.

So they decided not to do anything but to wait and see what happened.

About a month afterwards, the couple moved on without paying the rent for the time they had been there. The mother had given them a place to stay, feeling sorry for them after they had told her how they had been kicked out of where they had been staying previously, and how they couldn’t find any work. They said they would pay rent as soon as they were able to get a job in town.

So the mother and daughter had to work especially hard to make ends meet for the next couple of months. They lived on mostly oatmeal and beans to save money, but that was enough. They really didn’t mind the extra work, for they always worked together and that made their work very satisfying and they never felt any hardship from it.

By the time the summer had come to a close the rose bush, through the nurturing care of the mother and her daughter, had sprung back to life, and even produced a few small roses just before autumn started changing the color of the leaves on the trees.

One late afternoon, a young man walked by the house and noticed the small, deep-crimson roses burning like fire in the waning sunlight. He stopped to admire them and then noticed the young girl when she stood up from behind the rose bush where she had been cultivating the soil.

The young man said, “I stopped to admire the beautiful, small roses but now I see that they hardly compare with the beauty I now see before me in your eyes, face and hair. Never have I seen anything so pretty nor so fair.”

The young girl blushed, and shyly answered, “Young sir, please restrain yourself! For I am neither so pretty nor so fair as to deserve such unabashed expression as yours gushing forth as from a reckless fountain.”

To this the young man replied, “Nay, but thou art entirely deserved of such acclaim and I will not cease from such expression for I cannot restrain myself and would not if I could.”

The young woman to this replied, “Then I shall have to ask you to join me for a glass of chilled lemonade, since my ears can scarcely stop from drinking your unrestrained words that have intoxicated my soul to the point that I cannot resist them any longer.”

At that point one of the rose bush’s perfect blossoms dropped to the ground, whereupon the young girl picked it up and held it in outstretched hand to the young stranger and said, “This rose bush that my mother and I love as ourselves has just surrendered one of its most perfect blossoms as a gift for you. Please take it as a token of our friendship.”

As the young man reached forth his hand to receive the offering, he said, “Gladly and gratefully I accept your gift with the utmost gratitude as if it were your heart that you were giving me, for such a gift is indeed heartfelt and given from your heart to mine.”

Never had the young woman heard anyone speak such beautiful words before. They thrilled her in a way she had never felt up to that time. Something was awakening that she dared not speak of or hope for, yet hope for she did, as his hand held hers and their eyes met.

For the longest moment she could remember, their eyes beheld a deep mystery within each soul, and exchanged a promise that had long been sleeping in their hearts. It was as if they had known each other intimately for years, perhaps decades or even centuries.

“Oh, Yes, the lemonade!” she finally stammered, pulling her hand away from his gentle grasp as she suddenly realized how vulnerable and exposed she felt. Gathering up the folds of her dress, she turned to enter the house.

“I will wait here for you even if summer turns into fall and fall into winter”, he called after her. “It does not matter, for I now feel you are resting in my soul, never to leave.”

At that moment the nasty couple returned and yelled to the girl and her mother, “We have decided we want our room back and we’d also like some lemonade, as we are thirsty from our fruitless job-hunting that has provided us neither income nor shelter over the last few months.”

Just then the daughter appeared at the door with the lemonade. The nasty couple grabbed the two glasses she was carrying on a platter and swallowed them down without a moment’s hesitation. Barely stopping to take a breath, the nasty husband turned to the young man and asked with a demanding tone, “And what pray tell interests you in this young woman? Can’t you see she and her mother are as poor as church mice? I advise you to peddle your affections elsewhere where they stand a better chance of being well-received in more fruitful gardens of delight. Look, even this rose bush yonder is a pitiful sight to behold, struggling so hopelessly to recover from the weight of neglect.”

Eyes filled with pain met the young man’s gaze as he searched the daughter’s eyes for answers. Where affection had been growing he now saw it retreating before the onslaught of such cruelty and evil.

In a flash the young man realized what had happened. Without hesitation he countered, “If I may be so bold, sir, I demand that you leave immediately and go back wherever you came from. You neither own these fine people, nor can you hold claim to anything to do with them. It is readily apparent to me that you neither deserve their company nor their hospitality. Indeed, it appears you have done them much harm and for that reason you hardly deserve to remain in their presence for another moment. Be gone, and do not return. It is clear to me that the suffering you have inflicted upon these innocent beings is not justified at all.”

The young man stopped speaking and stared intently, with a fierce, burning gaze, deep into the eyes of his opponent, as if his gaze would burn holes through the eye sockets of the one responsible for such churlish remarks.

Not speaking a word, the man and his wife beat a hasty retreat, looking back once in shock and disbelief before disappearing down the street.

Next spring the rose bush leapt from the ground, growing abundantly and producing the most intense crimson blooms the family had ever seen. The daughter had reason to be happy that year, because she was with child. The young stranger and she were now married, and awaiting the arrival of their offspring in May.

As the couple gazed at the rose bush that had brought them together, it released one of its early blooms. Picking it up, the young man placed it in the palm of his bride’s hand and gazed into her eyes. Once again, their eyes met in an eternal moment, their souls entwined.

Later that summer, cries of a newborn baby filled that small house as the rose bush outside continued to produce blossoms that filled the air with their fresh perfume. One afternoon as the couple sat near the rose bush, it once again surrendered a full, delicate blossom to the ground where the infant picked it up and brought it to his mouth to savor its sweet flavor.

Once again the rose showed the young couple the real meaning of life: sacrificing the best part of oneself for others. By nurturing the rose back from the brink of extinction, the rose in turn was able to share the most precious gift of all with them – the beauty of its blossoms, among the most fragile of blooms, yet strong in their undying spirit of love.

At that moment the mother who was now a grandmother appeared at the door. Quietly she gazed with deep peace and happiness upon her daughter and her new family. In her heart she understood the meaning of the rose bush that was part of their family, a precious part that showed them the way to overcome difficulties and to live united in love.

Fred Pulver

6-21-08