The true story of the red roses.
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Dialogue between roses.
–What are we doing here?–Cried out one rose in the bouquet. –It is cold today in Amsterdam! I always heard about how beautiful is this city and I was looking forward to come here. But really I didn’t expect this ending. What do you think sisters? Dam square has absolutely stunning architecture but the view from this rubbish bin is a bit crooked. The royal palace is not even visible as they are remodeling and cleaning it. It is Saturday afternoon, the square is full of people. How come nobody notices us? No, really, of all places where roses should spread their beauty and fragrance this was not foreseen.–
Sister rose, on the right, answered, –if only people would notice that we are beautiful and fresh so they could have pity on us and relieve us from this torment of being neglected and rejected.–
The nearby sister came out with her sensitive voice and said: –Somehow when this man came to choose flowers in the Venlo station flower shop, I had this peculiar feeling. I felt he was not clear, from his being was radiating fear and hesitation; his outward behavior was edgy and angry. He didn’t even know how to hold us and got pricked by the little brother thorn. It didn’t mean to hurt him, if only he would have hold us with gentleness. How much was the poor man swearing because of that! God please forgive him, he was just very agitated.
However when we heard he was going to take a train to Amsterdam to meet a woman he never saw before, we were all very excited to this new excursion and perhaps, who knows, we were the witness of a beginning of a sweet love story. I could read his mind and what he was thinking. It has been a while he wasn’t going out with a woman and he was trembling to his core. He didn’t know much about this woman, he saw just a photo on an online dating forum and exchanged few basic information. Nevertheless they decided to meet. It has been all too frantic, something was not supposed to happen.
It takes time and patience to get to know someone, and still we may never know deeply a person.–
Sister rose in the middle observed, –when I saw him waiting and waiting near the Coffee Company for more then 2 hours, and us really getting cold, I suspected she wasn’t coming. We may never know what happened to her and why she didn’t show up. The point is that we are now here, an outcome of a moment of anger and despair, total helplessness and disappointment. He dumped his frustration on us–
Few of the other roses were screaming: –God have mercy on us, please, please let us not end here alone and in the darkness. We are made to bring joy and to invite love in the heart of every person. Help us to fulfill our purpose!–
Look – said the first rose – that Lady with the white jacket has noticed us. She is shocked.-How come such wonderful roses have been tossed away so brutally?- she said. She calls her husband - I see they wear the wedding ring- to make a photo of this contradiction of life. The beauty trapped in the mouth of the beast.
She is saying: “Amore, why is this here? I mean this is a blog entry, a nice story of a bunch of roses. Please make a picture.”
After a moment she added, “do you know, I really feel bad about leaving these roses here. They are beautiful, it hurts my heart to see them in this rubbish bin. I don’t care what people may think or say if I take them out. They are wonderful to me and anything for them is better then lying here in the cold, just because something has gone wrong with somebody.
I don’t want to take them home. Let’s bring them to St. Nicholas church. We are going there anyway to listen to the Choral evensong. Maybe I can give them as an offering to Mary.
I wonder how many of those unaware tourists know of how wonderful can be to spend 45 minutes of time with such devotional and uplifting songs. Maybe the tourist department could help to spread the news of this event that takes place every Saturday at 5 pm in the St. Nicolaaskerk in the city of Amsterdam. A church that, to me, offers such mystical and devotional moments, where God never fails to soothe my longing soul”.
–Oh yes, yes,– all the roses where whispering. And quietly were waiting to see their new destination.
The Lady of the Lady, Mother Mary of love and grace was smiling at them. The candles burning happily all around for all beings who suffers from pain, anger, uneasiness of life. People kneeling and devoutly reciting their prayer to the Holy Mother, finding comfort, solace, a little light and a sweet warmth in their heart. The red roses on the side, proudly and humbly smiling for the unexpected gift to be able to fulfill their purpose and give their total life to it.
Thank you beautiful roses for offering me a moment of Love and devotion.
"The rose" by Bette Midler
that drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
an endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
and you its only seed.
It's the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking
that never takes the chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
who cannot seem to give,
and the soul afraid of dyin'
that never learns to live.
When the night has been too lonely
and the road has been to long,
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong,
just remember in the winter
far beneath the bitter snows
lies the seed that with the sun's love
in the spring becomes the rose.
posted by Milena at 8:24 AM
1 Comments:
Thank you Milena. your story is so well written and with a message of hope. W
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