Roses

ROSES

There she stood four feet tall in white stockings and a brilliant spring dress to pick the wildflowers from the yard and shelter their stems in her small delicate hands. She would water the blooms and buds everyday and keep them safe, just to see them open up to her one day. Everyday looking for all the more wild flowers to pick. Trying so hard, as to impress another young miss with her vibrant collection. Playing dress up was a common routine of coarse for her, as well as those dear long conversations with her closest friend that only she could see. She would sit by her flowers each day and look out the windows, watch the birds sing and the wind crash on the trees so fragile from the cold winter. One day she opened those windows to feel the gentle breeze whistle through the screening and hear the birds sing. And the wind blew her flowers to the floor, shattered her vase and her beautiful flowers died. Will she have to start again, or move on to something more. She sat and watched the birds out of the window like it was their fault the wind blows so suddenly. Started blaming the simple things that once made her happy. And out of that window she seen another little girl walk down the street with the finest roses you'd ever see. And she thought to herself, well where did she get those, all I can see are thorny wildflowers. And so she blamed her soil, her sun, and the water she lay upon her flowers. And when that didn't bring from the soil the most elegant soft flowers, She blamed herself for her small hands and began to get very frustrated. She tried everything from more water to less water trying to get the beautiful roses to grow in her yard. And with each day passing someone new would pass the street and shed sit and stare out those windows once more. One day while she was out picking her wildflowers to vase again, a young boy walked up with his hands crossed behind his back. “Well, what a fine collection you have there”,” how did you get such flowers to grow?” he asked her. “You wouldn't understand,”the little girl said with frustration at heart. And although this girl seemed all the least bit interested in what this boy had to say, he stayed with her. “I just cant seem to grow anything else”, she said. And the boy brought out his arms full of the most beautiful intricate roses and lilies of all sorts. “Awww those are so beautiful”, the girl says to the young boy. And he says, “You can have them if you wish, plant them gently and they will grow. And so for weeks she tended to these roses and all the while forgot about her wildflowers. She had the most beautiful garden of roses and lilies and colors of red, yellow, and even purple. She went inside to shut her windows for the birds have all flown away now. And then the violent storm hit once more, uprooted her entire garden and she began to question what she was doing wrong. All she had left were those few wildflowers she had previously put in the vase. She had to plant them all over again, and so she sat and watched out her window. Tending to her old wildflowers until the boy came back one day. This time with his hands empty and fallow. “Will you help me, I see the storm has taken your flowers too.” the young boy asks her. And she said, “I don't understand why this has to happen when across the street the sun shines everyday and the storm never comes, what brings it here, to us?” And the boy says, “I'm not sure, but maybe we'll make it out of the storm better next time if were together.” And the boy shows the girl an empty spot across the street and says, “come with me, and well start over together, your roses will still grow.” “I will keep you safe from the stormy weather coming, all you have to do is stay.”and when they got across that road so old and broken, they look back and cant see any flowers not one tiny wildflower bud in the space behind them. And so they plant and take care of the most beautiful flowers on the street, and wind gets in their way no longer. She looks out these windows and is thankful for the wind and birds again, and looks up to this boy who once gave her roses