With my username, it shouldn’t come as much surprise that roses are my favorite flowers. On my way home, I came across beautiful rose bushes. It’s been a long time since I took time to stop and smell the roses (literally in this case), and such rare moment of tranquility inspired me to write this post.

Roses, red roses in particular, have been ubiquitous symbol of love and passion. While they’ve been accused of being cliches, roses are still the standard gift many men are expected to give on special occasions like the Valentine’s Day; and if you’ve ever had to purchase a bouquet of roses, you would be familiar with how expensive they can be. Young and old men alike with little money to spare end up having trouble buying such expensive flowers for their lovers.

Roses from florists are very well cared for. The stems are freshly cut, the petals are flawless, and the prickly thorns have been removed. Sprigs of baby’s breath surround these beautiful flowers, and even those who can’t afford them are tempted to stop and appreciate their beauty.

Roses growing in bushes, however, are vastly different. In fact, if you took enough time to study them, you would be hard pressed to find one without a fault. Some petals are marred with brown edges; some petals have bloomed too quickly and are starting to fall off; some petals are not blooming fast enough; and all of the roses have sharp thorns.

These observations led me to wonder what a day as a rose bush must be like:

When a beautiful ray of sunlight touches your petals and wakes you up, you’re excited that this is a new day to cheer people up with your beauty. You hear the sound of the footsteps as people begin their day. Men in suits are checking their watches as they run. Children are squealing in delight as they hop down the street, careful to avoid cracks as they do so. Women take sips of coffee from their travel mugs, while their high heels make those annoying clicking sounds each time they hit the pavement.

Instead of being received by a sharp intake of breath from an excited lady upon your introduction like your pampered cousins, your existence is hardly noticed by these busy passersby. There’s no special vase for you; no glances of admiration for you; no one to thank another person for your presence. The situation hardly gets better as the day passes. In the afternoon, children touch your petals in awe then brutally tear them apart; some burst in tears when your thorns poke their dainty fingers; some are dragged away by their mothers, because “flowers outside are dirty.” When the night comes, drunken men stumbling their way back home throw empty beer bottles at you; but you don’t mind; at least they didn’t puke on the ground below like last night. You sigh and glance up at the moon; she sends her silvery moonlight to gently pat your petals and help you fall asleep.

I know I painted quite a depressing imagery above, but I wanted to make a point:

Roses used in bouquets are cared for, because they must be purchased in order for their values to be justified. The highlight of these roses’ lives is the moment they’re given away. Then, in the days that follow, these roses will wilt then die no matter how well they’re taken care of. After all, these roses were cut; they’re rootless; despite being perennials in nature, they won’t be able to bloom again.

Rose bushes don’t know the faith of their groomed counterparts. They don’t know that roses in vases will die in a matter of days while they will bloom year after year. They don’t know that the fact that they weren’t gifted to one person means that they were a gift to everyone. They don’t know that their scent travels far beyond small room their cousins are placed in.

Even harmless rose bushes face hardships and disappointment just by existing; as humans, we can expect to experience so much more. Unlike roses, however, we can choose to stay rooted or cut our stems off to receive recognition elsewhere. Staying “rooted” is not a mere reference to geographical location; it’s a symbolism of a steadfast heart. If you choose to plant yourself on the side of righteousness, you WILL have to endure far more than you THINK you can handle. But good thing about choosing to be a rose planted by the sidewalks is that you can inspire anyone; you’re not just a gift to A woman; you’re a gift to us ALL.

-Roseberrycupcakes (RCC), archived @ roseberrycupcakes.wordpress.com

(p.s. I will reply in a later post to the anon who asked me for my medical opinion on current situation. Don’t expect too much, though.)