by Velma aka Shammah

Created on: June 28, 2008

I've often compared my human existence to that of the beautiful rose. Now, when you first hear that I know that you are visualizing this gorgeous ruby red rose, in full and perfect bloom and can smell the aroma and even taste it in the dew drops that slowly evaporate in the early morning sun. "Wow," you say, "Your life must be awesome; totally rosy (pardon the pun) with everything going your way, unfolding perfectly like I'd like my life to be!"

The problem, my friend, is that you've only looked at and focused upon the blossom of the fully grown and matured rose, and at that, you've not let your eyes wander downward from the blossom to the stem to the ground and beneath the earth, to see the roots and feel the struggle that the rose undergoes, daily in its short life span, to stay alive and blossoming and in perfect bloom! It's the very same thing when you look at your neighbour, driving yet another new vehicle, buying yet another summer home and a ski plane to go with it. You see but dimly and you see but on the surface. You do not see the daily and sometimes moment-by-moment struggle that the person undergoes, much like you've not seen the struggles of the rose to become and maintain its perfection.

The rose has its trials and tribulations, its struggles and its threats and predators that would devour it if left unattended. There are things on the rose, on its stem, that you and I are quick to shave off when we bring home a bouquet to decorate our dining room table; thorns! The soft beauty of the petals of the rose are in direct contrast to the prickly hard thorns that adorn the stem that supports it and allows it to continue to bloom in full view. Yuck, how detracting and how imperfect you say! But, the rose has thorns for a reason. They are protectors of the blossom. They help stave away and protect the soft gentle petals from crawling insects and mites, that if allowed, would devour it in a second. The thorns likely also keep away larger pests, who once stung by the thorn, seek to choose other plant life for their food.

My life has had its many thorns and I certainly have not liked how I felt when I have been pricked by them; not one bit! But those thorns, well they more often than not, have kept me from going off half cocked in a direction that might bring utter destruction. Somehow, those things that I have not liked in my life, in retrospect have been my best friends in the whole world; have saved my life and kept me out of some disastrous situation. At

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