THE ROSEBUSH: A Story of Love and Loss

~Shemeka Michelle

red roses

red roses

 

There once was a man that had a beautiful rose bush growing in his own backyard. This rosebush produced some of the prettiest roses one had ever seen. His yard backed up to a busy street and the roses would attract the attention of many of the people that passed by. As news of the beautiful flagrant roses spread, people would come from miles around.  The petals were extremely vibrant in color and their fragrance could be smelled afar. They were nurtured by the rains and gained energy from the sun but the love from the man who was the owner of the yard and the love from all of the people encouraged them to blossom like no other. The man saw the roses as a blessing from God.

As beautiful as these roses were, they were nestled in sharp pointy thorns that keep predators at bay. No one ever tried to cut the roses down or remove them for their own pleasure. It was a well known speculation based on the way they thrived that they were in their most conducive environment. Initially, the man that owned the yard loved and tended to the roses. Of all the yards in the world, he felt that he must be special that roses this beautiful had chosen to bloom in his yard. He kept the yard perfectly manicured and as traffic to see the roses increased he was at first excited that the roses were finally getting the praise and attention their beauty deserved.

As time went on, the roses grew more beautiful and attracted more and more attention. The man would look out of his kitchen window and stare at the people. They would line up as far as the eyes could see to get a chance to marvel in amazement at the roses. Eventually the man grew fearful that one day, someone would steal the rosebush from his yard. He had no idea that the roses preferred the energy that the man gave off as he attended to their maintenance daily and they purposely grew the sharpest thorns to keep the predators at bay. Also, the man had already proven that he was skilled enough to navigate the thorns in order to keep the roses in their best conditions. However as the crowd grew, so did the doubt in himself. He foolishly convinced himself that the roses wanted to be in another yard; perhaps located behind a better house, in a bigger yard in a more affluent neighborhood. These thoughts began to run rampant in his head; so much so that he began to focus more on the people that came to visit and their motives. Most of his days were spent consumed with thoughts of someone digging up and stealing his rosebush that his energy on which they thrived began to change. However, the roses were so full of life that they continued to blossom.

Crowds continued to come in droves to marvel at the gorgeous rosebush and the owner grew more insecure. He decided he needed to figure out a way to insure that the rosebush would always belong to him and him alone. Although the roses were nurtured by the rain, sun and obviously thrived off of love, the man was too selfish and afraid to think clearly. First he put up a fence to keep the spectators at bay. He was completely oblivious that the roses missed the interaction with the people and had started to droop. When they would still come and peer through the fence, he determined that the fence wasn’t enough.

Insecurity overwhelmed the man and fear of being alone eradicated all rational thoughts. One day, he decided that he’d had enough of the large crowds gawking over HIS rosebush. Beauty that he initially credited to the source of all life; given for all to see was now seen as property that he owned and wasn’t willing to share. He was determined that he would never let anyone take away his beautiful bush. His illogical solution to the problem that only existed in his head was to dig up the rosebush from the yard and hide it in his house behind locked doors. Once the word spread that the rosebush had been removed, the crowds stopped coming.

It didn’t take long for the roses to feel the detrimental effects. The colors that were once so vibrant slowly began to fade and eventually the petals began to wither. The man’s interest in the roses changed but he couldn’t figure out why. It was something different about them but he could put his finger on it. As time went on, the mutual exchange of positive energy ceased. The man’s disposition changed drastically and his once positive outlook on life turned to inherent sorrow. The petals on the roses hardened, turned brown and began to fall away from the bush. It was then that the man realized that he had made a horrible mistake. However, it was too late. The rosebush that was created by God for the enjoyment of his people faded from existence due to the selfish possessiveness of one man. The man was overcome by grief as he dealt with the sadness of losing the rosebush which was so precious to him.

Before long, the crowds began to come by the house again. However, now the interest was quite different. The home was now infamous for the story of a man who had allowed the weeds of envy and insecurity to strangle the life from him. People traveled from near and far to hear the story of the man who once owned the yard that grew the most beautiful rosebush that had ever bloomed. His legacy which could have been great was now a matter of disgust and laughter. For years to come, the story spread about the man who in his attempt to keep other people away from the rosebush, ended up being the biggest loser.