The White Rose of Heaven bloomed in all its glory. So pure, the Rose, that its petals reflected the Light of the Gardner. The prayers and praises of the people below fell as nourishing rain on the Rose. But one night the tears of the Gardner fell upon the Rose as He watched His people crucify His Son. His tears turned the Rose crimson as blood trickled down the majestic Prince's brow. Then, as the Son of David cried out to His Father, the Gardner, and when the Almighty Lord of All turned His wondrous face from the Lamb of God, each crimson petal fell to the golden floor of heaven. The angels wept, the saints bowed their heads in grief as the Ultimate Sacrifice whispered, "It is finished." For two days the petals of the Rose, now ashes, were swept away by the winds of Eloihim's grief. But on the third day when once again the Father and Son were in perfect communion, a Lily stood in its place- the purest white with just one drop of crimson on its inermost part- the Blood of the Victorious Warrior.
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