I came home with a single red rose-bud sitting taut on a very long stem. The edges of the petals were curled down ever so slightly and the shading there was a lighter red. Perfect rose standing in a test tube of some rose nurturing elixir. I was elated. I placed that one rose in a vase big enough to hold a dozen roses that I ceremoniously get on Birthdays and Anniversaries like those mass mailers. But this one was more dear to me like that one occasional rebate check and so I stepped back to admire it. My daughter looked at my quizzically which she does when she thinks smartness reduces after 40. Then she asked me the question – Mom, who gave you this rose?
She knows I will not buy a single rose. She knows that I don’t get that one choicest piece ever.
Hmm! I told her I got it from the doctor’s office which was true. “How come doctors give roses?” She asked. I told her I had to go to a special doctor and they like to give out roses. While I was answering her I could not help but smile at the fact that then when you get to 40 and you still get a rose, it is usually after a mammogram.
2 thoughts on “Who gave you the rose?”
What a charming post, Prachi.
why you could not make it to those American magazines is a mysetry to me. keep it up and good luck.