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by rickyg Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Family · #1939530
a man thinks he can care for a rose better then God
It was an absolutely fantastic late spring day. The like of which we had not seen in many years. As I sipped my first cup of coffee of the day, the birds were singing so loudly, I just had to see what they were so excited about. I stepped out my back door being careful not to let the door slam shut behind me and more importantly making sure I did not spill the steaming black gold that was in my cup.

The breeze was blowing just hard enough to make the leaves of the trees; well they just sort of quivered. But it was enough to fill the air with the smell of recently bloomed flowers of every kind. The only way you could tell there had been a tooth chattering storm the night before was the smell of rain in the air that mingled with that of the flowers. And there were puddles that brought every low place level. Which I carefully made my way around, as I headed over to the prize of my garden, the most glorious red rose anywhere, a red so deep it looked as if you were to cut it, surely it would bleed. My wife often tells me that I think more of that flower than I do her. I chuckled to myself as I started to make my way back to the house.

About half way back I stubbed my toe on something in the lawn that was not supposed to be there and spilled my coffee. “I was not done with that.” I said to myself as I added to the puddles on the ground with the remaining coffee in my cup.

Once I was back in the house, I started the rest of my morning ritual. The first thing I did was to turn on the weather radio just to keep up with all the storms lately. Then I turned to go into the kitchen to get me another cup of coffee. However, before I could get there a warning tone pierced the tranquility of the morning.

“This is a warning alert for the Brown County area.” The computerized women’s voice was trying to make what she had to say as painless as possible. “there will be strong winds and large hail.” She then just repeated herself. My mind was whirling, all I could think was," what about my rose"!

I raced over to the kitchen window. You see when I planted my rose I purposely placed it where it could be seen from the window in the house that offered the best view.

It was already starting to grow dark in the distant sky and moving quickly this way. The rain had started streaking a path down the window giving it a look of shattered glass. However, I did not have time to think about that; the beast had arrived early! How sad this day was going to be, if the angels were weeping so bitterly.

Although the rain covered the window I caught a glimpse of my rose, my mind was once again spinning. All I could think about was how to save my rose. There was no way it would survive without my intervention.

Quickly I pulled the counter drawers open, one at a time and started to dig around looking for something that, where they? I was desperate to find them. I was now starting to throw knives forks and spoons all over the counter top until, yes, there they were a tiny pair of silver scissors. Nothing but the best will do for my rose.

I wasted no time in rushing outside, letting the door slam shut behind me. I stopped just long enough to see how close the lightning was getting but that didn’t matter I had to save my, rose!

Slowly, tenderly I reached up and found the best place to cut, it was just under the top five leaves. I took the stem carefully in my hands, but I missed and grabbed a thorn. Yanking my hand back, I noticed that blood was becoming mixed with the rainwater as it fell to the ground. “Can’t stop now.” I paused for only a moment “I am sorry.” I said “But this is for your own good.” Then snip and the rose fell to the ground.

I picked it up and ran back into the house. Now what to do. My rose had to have a special home. I stood there just looking around the room from time to time blinking at the intensity of the lighting and very pleased with myself at the thought of how I have just saved such a beautiful flower.

I started going through all the cabinets, moved all the plates and knocked the glass over. Then a bowl of candy that I had been looking for went crashing to the floor. “So that’s where she hid that candy.”

Finally when I was about to give up. I took a step back and looked up. “That’s It! ” the perfect vase for my rose, way up on the top of the cabinets. Quickly I pulled a chair over from the table and with a fast look around to make sure the kids weren’t watching, I climbed on to the chair.

I stretched as hard as I could, but I was able to reach only some of the items with the tips of my fingers. The chair was not quite tall enough. The best I could, I started to move things around until I reached the treasure I so desperately wanted. In the process, I sent another vase crashing to the floor. But that was all right I had what I wanted.

I meticulously filled the vase with the perfect temperature of water and then made my way back to the table where I had laid my rose. Carefully I picked up the flower and to my anguish the petals began to fall on the table and on to the floor. I was so stunned that I stumbled and stepped on the petals crushing them under foot. All that I had done, all that I went through, was for nothing I had failed to save my rose.

Then the sun started to come out from behind the dark clouds and the birds started to sing again. The storm was over. As it turned out, the rose would have survived longer had I simply trusted and left it attached to the vine that gave it life in the first place…

Isa 64:6 but we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousness are as filthy rags; and we all do fade as a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away. 
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