One Rose

Once Long ago, a boy was walking through the woods to pass the time. As he was walking he saw a rose bush, the young boy thought to himself, these are beautiful, I will pick them all and give them to my mother. The young boy ran over and picked one rose, and then a Lady appeared. The boy looked up at the Lady, and saw she was plain in appearance, but the beauty that emitted from her eyes miraculous.
As the boy sat there gazing into the eyes of the Lady, he felt a rush of Love. Something welled up inside him, something so deep, that he had to show the Lady the affection some how. The boy then proceeded to give the Lady the rose, but the Lady politely refused and said, “Take it home, place it in a vase and water it everyday. Also my son, you must come back every day and pick a new rose, and thank me with a kiss on the cheek.” To this the boy responded yes and gave his Lady a kiss on the Cheek, and he went home and put the rose in a vase. The next day the boy ran through the woods to that rose bush, the Lady appeared with a loving smile on her face, opened her arms into which the boy ran, was embraced, held and loved; then he gave her a kiss on the cheek and ran off.

This continued all through the boy's childhood; soon, though, he had no time to visit the rose bush, soon he put the vase of flowers in the closet, forgot about love, and turned inward to himself. The beautiful Lady waited for the boy. She would weep when he would not return, and everyday she was there waiting, praying, and suffering for the Loss of that Child. The boy, however, was also waiting, though he was not patient. The boy also prayed for reuniting with the Lady, though no words came from his mouth; and he too suffered, though no tears came forth from his eyes.
One day, however,the boy finally realizing his own loneliness, he set once more into the woods, and again he came to that rose bush, and there he saw the Lady. The Lady was different this time- her eyes were bloodshot from the rivers of merciful tears she had cried. As the boy gazed upon the face of this most Merciful Lady, he went over and kissed first the feet of the Lady and then her hands, and said to her, “Make me your son.” The Lady received the boy into her arms, filling his soul with contrition, sorrow, and penance, but there was always a gentle river of love coming forth from the Mother. The boy wept and wept in his Mother's arms. His Mother lifted the boy's face and said, “Pick a flower and continue the work you have started.”

The boy picked a rose and went back to place it in his vase that he had forgotten. The vase was covered in dirt, and the roses were wilted, but he took each rose and ever so gently blew on it, revealing the red rose underneath. Then he took the vase and poured the stagnate water out. Although the putrid water made him gag, he completed his task, and soon the vase was spotless, filled with glorious roses. Then the boy took that last rose he had received from his pocket. As he was putting it in his vase, a young hand guided him as he placed that rose amidst the others. The boy turned to see who’s hand had guided him, and there stood a young woman. She said, "My Mother told me to wait till you had enough roses. For many years, all you needed was that single rose that my hand helped you to put in. Now I present you with these.” The young women then gave him a satchel of white roses, pure and innocent, and fresh as the day they were picked. The man then took the roses, thanked her, kissed her on the cheek, and put the white roses amidst his roses, and before both of their eyes, the vase of roses took form and turned into a rose bush itself. There in the midst stood the Mother of them both, with joy in her eyes, and she said simply and lovingly to them, “My Son and My daughter, see how two have brought life.”

Yours Respectfully

Ernest