The Lessons of a Rose

Ever since I was a little boy my mother would take me to her garden in the backyard and I would sit with her as she would maintain her garden. I used to listen intently as she would teach me about growing plants. With a multitude of plants, my mom’s garden was an oasis of greenery in the concrete jungle of the city. My mom made use of the little dirt in our backyard to grow plants more than imaginable. The garden had humble beginnings. During the first few years in our new house, very little was produced from it. However, as the years progressed the garden amassed biodiversity and flourished with ample amounts of vegetation.

The most memorable aspect of those experiences in my mom’s garden amongst the grayness of the city, were the roses. Shades of deep reds and fluorescent yellows seemed to pop out and snare ones attention. They delicately swayed in the wind as their petals gently floated to the ground to lay at rest, sharply contrasting on the gray floor. They were scintillating vessels of beauty that were simply too admirable to ignore. Like any other little kid amused by an object, I wanted to be able to grab them. Much to my dismay, they were adorned with thorns that were merciless to the touch, a lesson learned after a few band-aids and anti-septic applications.

My mother’s flowers exposed me to horticulture and bred in me a fondness for flowers and plant life till this day. My knowledge of flowers was the subject of an interesting and hilarious speculation in the football locker room, where machismo outlooks reigned. The roses in my mother’s garden taught me more than plant knowledge. They also taught me patience. When the plant grew in age, the thorns dried up and fell off; this made it possible to admire the flower with greater intimacy. Till this day, the roses seem to convey to me through repetition the lessons I learned as a child. When I help my mother clip her rose bushes, I grow impatient sometimes and try to speed things up and in result a rose thorn manages to snag me.

I am very happy for my experiences in my mother’s garden and in fact proud. I don’t hesitate to share my knowledge of flowers with people when they are in need. They’ve given me more than the ability to tell a double delight from a bourbon but they’ve instilled unto me the ability to be fond of natural beauty and a sense of patience that has helped me through out the course of my life personally, professionally, and academically.

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