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A Friend of Roses
by mary wolf
09/10/04
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Rose stretched her petals and yawned. She had been a bud for so long and now she was finally in full bloom. As she felt the early dew fresh on her petals, she hummed happily. Thinking about the lovely dress she was wearing of a pale yellow with tips of pink, Deeper pink adorned her middle petals. As a baby bud she had been just one color of deep yellow. No one was quite like her, even the other blossoms on her bush. Something about her made her different, perhaps in was the sweet fragrance she gave to everyone who passed her way. As the sun rose she heard the others talking.

“Well we would have a much greater audience if it were not for those dreadful thorns.”

“I quiet agree!” another nodded.

“Do you know I actually have seven of those dreadful things growing on my stem?”

“Oh my, I’m so sorry .”

Rose had listened politely not wanting to seem rude, she finally spoke softly.
“Excuse me, but I find my thorns very helpful.”

“What did she say?”

Mrs Daffodil leaned over and repeated, “I think she said they were helpful.”

Shaking her head the eldest blossom haughtily replied, “A young rose should be silent unless she is spoken to.”

Now Roses’ friend did not agree, but she was still half bud and wanted to show respect. She also didn’t want to get her feelings hurt, so she whispered, “Rose why would you think thorn is helpful? He is so ugly and he has that awful pointed head that hurts everything.”

“I know, rose smiled sweetly, “But one day, when I was just a bud, a people came and was going to take me. I knew if they picked me it might be to soon and Perhaps I would never get to bloom. I stood very still thinking they might see a more beautiful bossom in full bloom. Then I felt their hands reach over and take hold of my stem, I was sure I was a goner!”

Her friend ghasp, “What did you do?”

“Actually there wasn’t much I could do. Dew tried to help she spilled all of her water on the people. But it was thorn that protected me. Just as the hand reached for me he stuck his pointed head up and I was safe."

“Thorn did that for you?”

“Yes, since then I have been very glad to share my stem with as many as want to live with me.”

“Rose, I guess it is ok to be different. In fact sometimes it is better!

"Right?" Half Bud nodded.

“Yes my friend. Our maker is perfect, and he has a purpose for each of us.”

“Just then a people came. she looked at the bush and carefully clipped the oldest blossoms off the bush.”

Rose looked down at little half bud. “ I know it is hard but now, a new stem will grow and more baby buds will come. You will see."
"When we no longer have a job to do for our maker, he takes us to a place that is so beautiful that even the roses never die.”

“So even people are sometimes our friends?”

“Yes, our maker uses them to prune us.”

If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

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Member Comments
Member Date
Holly Jensen 31 May 2005
A sweet reminder of the way God uses the thorns in our lives to help us. It is often such an easy thing to forget.
Barbara Thompson-Young 11 Sep 2004
Ouch! I love your story. Reminds me of a poem I wrote, and of the book, "Hinds Feet On High Places", where the Shepherd plants the thorn of love in "Much Afraid's" heart.




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