Last spring on my walk through the neighborhood I noticed a rose bush growing up amongst the weeds and tall grass at the side of the road. It was kind of scraggly-looking, but it had cultured-looking leaves and a plucky little crimson rose dangling from one of the branches. It looked to me like the rose bush must have been forgotten and abandoned when the owners of the nearby house had moved out the year before. I was tempted, then, to dig it up and bring it home with me, but the house was up for sale now, and I figured it wasn’t my place to remove the rose bush. I really hoped, though, that whoever moved in would find the rose bush and recognize its value and nurture it back to health.
Months went by, the house remained uninhabited, and one day I noticed everything on the side of the road had been shaved off – including the rose bush. I could no longer find even a stubble of it. And then signs of a construction project began to appear there – heavy equipment and gravel and vegetation rolled flat. I kept an eye out for the rose bush – but could find no trace of it. I’d just about given up hope of ever seeing it again when, a few days after the heavy equipment arrived, I finally saw a twig with a rose leaf hanging from it sprouting out of the mashed-up blackberry vines and grass. I quickly scooted home, returned to the rose bush with a bucket and shovel, and dug her up.
By this time it was September. September is not the best time to dig up a rose bush, but I knew if I waited even another day that little rose bush would be toast. (I was right about that, too – the next day big concrete slabs were sitting in the place where the rose bush had been.) So I brought the rose bush home with me and prayed to know it as the idea of Love – held forever safe in the consciousness of Love.
And look at her now! 🙂