Orange Rose - An Allegory (Part 1)

Once upon a time there was a little girl. The girl lived with her father, and he loved to give her all sorts of presents. The little girl loved her father very much.

They lived in a bright, sunny kingdom where the father grew roses. Every day he would water and feed the plants until bright, beautiful blooms burst out the tops. As she grew, the little girl learned to help her father. He taught her to dig into the earth, pull weeds, and feed the plants. The little girl loved her father, his garden, and working with him.

Often the father would pick the most beautiful orange roses and give them to his daughter. “Be careful,” he would say, “if you hold the stem too tight, the thorns will cut you. If you hold the bloom too tight, you will crush it.” And the daughter would smile and say, “Thank you, Daddy!” Then she would carefully braid the roses in her hair, flaming it with color as she played and worked.

Occasionally, the father would travel to get supplies or tend to his other gardens. When he left, he would wave at his daughter and she would wave back until he was too small to see. Then the daughter would unbraid her hair, let it dance in the wind, and hold the roses her father gave her. If she ever felt lonely or afraid, she would look at the roses, smell their scent, and remember her father’s love. In this way, she was content until her father returned, smiling.

One day, the father said, “You are old enough to join me on a journey. We will go to one of my farthest gardens and work there. The plants there need special attention.” The little girl was very excited to travel with her father.

Before they left, the father picked the brightest, most beautiful orange rose in his garden and gave it to his daughter. “If you are ever afraid in the land we are going to, this rose will remind you that you are safe in my love.” “Ok, Daddy,” the girl replied, and braided the rose into her hair.

After many days of walking, the girl and her father arrived at his farthest garden. The land was grayer and darker than their home, and the garden was filled with strange plants the girl did not recognize. She could see the plants needed special care because they did not get as much sunlight as her roses at home.

For many months, the girl and her father worked side by side to nourish and protect these new plants. Some grew fantastical, lovely flowers in teal, lavender, violet, and deep blue. Others hardly grew at all. The little girl wished she could see the sun, but she was happy to work with her father.

One day, the father left on another journey. He didn’t say where he was going, but reminded his daughter, “If you feel afraid or lonely, your rose will remind you that I love you and that I will return.”

The girl continued to work in the garden, but she was not happy. The sky looked darker every day, and the plants grew so slowly. Gradually, the girl began hearing dark voices in the wind. She never caught any words, but the tone was always the same. It frightened her and made her wonder if her father was really coming back. One day, she was so frightened that she did not go into the garden to work. Instead, she sat down, unbraided her hair, and stared at the orange rose her father had given her. In the gray light, the rose looked almost brown, but it still smelled just as sweet as the day her father had given it to her. She laid down, held the rose close to her nose, and remembered that her father loved her. Soon, content, she fell asleep.

But the new land also had a smell, like the smoke from many ovens that cooks have not bothered to clean. When the girl awoke, she found that the wind had brought this smell thickly over her garden. She could not smell her rose properly. It still smelled flowery, but also burnt. Frightened, the girl squeezed the rose tightly to make sure it was still real. Its thorns cut into her hands and she cried out in pain. She remembered her father’s words, “If you hold the stem too tight, the thorns will cut you,” but now those words sounded harsh and demanding. She had disobeyed. The girl sucked her cuts as tears rolled down her face.

Then she became angry. Why would her father give her a gift that would hurt her? She wanted desperately to remember the smell of her flowers at home, but now the burning smell was so strong that even when she pressed the rose against her nose, she could barely notice a difference. Desperate to smell her rose, she crushed the bloom, hoping to press out a little scented moisture.

But none came, and the heavy wind whisked the torn, wilted petals away.

She walked and cried and lay down and cried until she was tired. She fell into dark dreams. Then she woke, looked at her rose’s stem, and cried again. She refused to work, and her father’s strange plants began to wilt. She lost count of the days and even forgot that her father had promised to return. The dark voices on the wind swirled around her.

***************

(Stop by next week to see the exciting conclusion to the story!)