The Roses

Originally written in April 2008, this story allegorically depicts my heart's desire to see each one of brothers and sisters in Christ choosing to live in patience and purity as we wait for Father to bring us our soul-mates. He does make all things beautiful in His time... but will we choose to patiently wait as He does the beautifying???

 

There was once a father who had three sons.

To each of his sons the father gave a small rosebush which he helped them plant by their windows.

"Be patient," the father told his children "pray that your plant grows strong, care for them tenderly; and one day you will be rewarded for your waiting."

The children each purposed in their hearts to watch and wait, excited at the prospect of a reward.

The seasons passed and the plants grew.

Springtime finally came 'round and the the boys watched their rosebushes in eager expectation.

One morning the youngest of the three boys threw open his window and laid eyes on a tiny rosebud peeking out from under the leaves of his rosebush. Exclaiming in delight, the child reached down and plucked off the bud. He held it up triumphantly in his hands and cried, "Look! Oh, come and see! I waited patiently and now I have my reward! I have a rosebud now!"

The other two boys came running to see the treasure that their brother held. Seeing the new bud, they shook their heads. "Ah," said the second child "you were not patient enough. Had you waited longer you would've had an even greater treasure than you have now." 

The eldest son nodded in agreement. "You should have let it grow and mature." he said sadly "Now all you will ever see of it's beauty is what you see now."

The two older brothers left the youngest son feeling quite disappointed that he had acted in such haste only a short while before. Indeed, he had received his reward, but he would never see the full beauty or enjoy the fragrance that the rose was meant to have.

He would have to be satisfied with the tiny and incomplete rosebud.

Several days passed. 

One morning, bright and early, the second child hurried outside to see if his rosebush had changed overnight. Much to his surprise and delight, he saw a rosebud, reaching up toward the sunlight. "I will not be like my brother," the child decided quickly "I will keep waiting patiently and see my rosebud grow."

He skipped away to play.

A few hours later he returned to gaze at his rosebud. His smile faded when he saw that there was still no visible change. Looking up to heaven, he asked God to make his rose grow big and strong. The child asked God for the rose to grow quickly because he was eager to pick it and have it as his own. When he finished his prayer the child felt happy once again, so he left his rosebud and went inside the house. 

After hardly an hour had passed, the child returned to his rosebush again, expecting to find there a fully-formed rose waiting for him. 

Letting out a little cry, he knelt down beside his bush and observed the rose from every angle.

No change.

Did he not ask God to make it grow, and grow quickly?

Suddenly he had an idea. Maybe his rose needed a little help from him. Carefully, he reached out and touched the rosebud's soft petals. Taking hold of the petals between his fingers, the child began pulling them apart, trying to unfold the rose with his own hands.

But, alas! A rose can only be unfolded by the hands of God.

It didn't take long for the poor child to realize that he had completely ruined his rosebud.

Letting the petals fall to the ground, he let out a sob. Never would he get a chance to even enjoy his rose.

He had done worse than the first child; now he had nothing at all.

Meanwhile, the eldest son watched his rosebush carefully. On it, too, had appeared a rosebud. Every day the child prayed that his rosebush would grow strong and healthy in order to nourish his one and only little rose. He prayed for sunshine, he prayed for rain. When the storms came during the night, the child would awake and go to his window. As he watched the raindrops fall heavily on his rosebush, the child asked God that his rose would not be damaged but rather grow stronger and healthier as the result of the storms. 

Days turned into weeks, and the young but wise child continued to wait patiently. 

His rose began to unfold, slowly- yes- but surely. 

Every day the child thanked God for his rose and for the growth he could see in it. He continued to pray that it would grow until it reached maturity. 

He prayed and he waited, but it was not always easy. There were times when he wanted so badly take it away from its bush.

"How can it get any better than it already is?" the other children would ask, trying to persuade him to pick the growing rosebud.

But the child stood firm. He learned to be patient, and in time he was rewarded.

One morning in mid-Summer the eldest child opened his window and was greeted by a beautiful fragrance. He looked down to see that his rose was no longer a bud. It had finished unfolding its petals during the night and it stood before him now fully opened; radiant; waiting now only to be picked by the child.

The child knew it was now time.

Waiting was over. This was his reward.

He reached down and pulled his rose gently from the bush- his very own rose.

It seemed to be smiling as he held it in his hands.

Throwing his head back, the child laughed.

It was worth it to wait.