Roses for love
by Jeannette Cabraal
"Grandpa! Ammi is calling you for tea. You have been in the garden
for a long time, she says". Little Nimalie said as she playfully clung
on to his back as he squatted on his haunches in the garden attending to
his plants. The action nearly threw over the rather frail Mr. Charles
who was now in his eighty second year and still tending the garden, with
loving care. He was no believer in the new craze for foliage. To him a
garden meant flowers.
 Old Mr. Charles was a great lover of flowers and had a great devotion
to the Blessed Virgin Mary, and in May, the month of blossoms and the
month dedicated to the Mother of God, he would take more than usual
interest in the garden and ensure that there were lots of flowers to
honour the Virgin Mary, which he culled for the special altar it was
customary for them to have in the month of May. He took great pride and
pleasure in arranging and decorating the altar himself.
Show
Some months ago on his birthday, his daughter had presented him with
a yellow rose plant she had bought at a flower show. He had lavished
much care on this plant and it had branched off beautifully. There were
three pretty buds from within which pale cream petals peeped, impatient
to burst forth. They would blossom tomorrow and old Mr. Charles could
not wait to see them. Hence his prolonged stay in the garden.
He
would often take his five year old grand-daughter by the hand and walk
around the garden telling her about the flowers, the connection between
the flowers and the month of May and Mother Mary, and teach her to lisp
the Hail Mary on his well-worn beads.
"Grandpa, have the yellow roses bloomed?" Nimalie asked.
Privilege
"No darling. They will definitely bloom tomorrow and you shall have
the privilege of cutting the first yellow rose for the Blessed Mother. I
shall nip away all the surrounding thorns so that your little fingers
will not bleed".
"Oh grandpa, you are a darling", she said as she hugged him and
together they went in for tea.
Early next morning, Nimalie was up much earlier than usual to wake up
grandpa to see the roses. But her mother told her that grandpa was not
yet up and should not be disturbed and that she should go out and play.
Mr. Charles was not all that well this particular morning and his
daughter did not want Nimalie to worry him.Suddenly Nimalie burst into
the room holding the three yellow roses she had herself cut with
grandpa's garden scissors and there she stood with crimson drops from
her bruised fingers tinting the pale yellow roses screaming "Grandpa,
Grandpa! I've picked the yellow roses for you. Come, get up, we'll give
them to the Blessed mother!"
Whispered
Grandpa turned wearily but smilingly to little Nimalie and whispered,
"Thank you darling for bringing me these roses. I was longing to see
them. Your mother brought me that plant, you my darling child have
brought me the first roses from the plant and I in turn take them to the
Blessed Mother myself".
And reaching out he was just able to grasp the flowers when his head
fell aside on his pillow. |
