In The Garden, A Rose

"In my garden of motherhood, I grew four seeds.  One sprouted tall, and was caught by high winds.  Another raised himself slowly, and endured the challenges of nature.  The third dug into the earth with deep roots that would nurture his growth.  The last was the most fragrant in the garden, a Rose."

Virginia's Voice
www.blogspot.com


Thirty-five years ago, I added a daughter to my collection of three sons.  She was born on Mother's Day and has been a gift every second of each day.  She was protected by her brothers and loved by her father, but she and I shared an invisible bond.  Our connection deepened through conversation, solitude, and compassion throughout the years to come.

There was plenty of confidence while raising the boys, but I learned how to raise my daughter as she grew.  I learned from her lessons I should have learned at my own mother's and father's knee.  As delicate as she was, her seldom shown prickliness would catch others by surprise.  She rarely used her thorns, but they brought balance to her developing core.

As my lovely Rose unfolded, each of her petal's displayed a gift lined with insight, courage, and compassion.  There came a time she was called from my garden leaving only her fragrance behind. She nurtured herself by the sun and connected with the earth beneath her feet.  She welcomed the cleansing of the  rains and played in the blowing snow.  She always survived gracefully into the next spring.

My daughter, a delicate Rose, maintains strength to carry the burdens of others by being present in their overwhelmed condition.  Witnessing the cruelty in life, she brings light into the darkness.  Through teaching and example, she gives witness to the risk of being vulnerable. She will thrive in her garden, years on end.