The Rosebush.

One day a man came upon a beautiful rosebush. As he marveled at its beauty,
he considered what he might do. If he cut the bush up and took it home with him,
he would enjoy its fragrence for a very short time, and it would be gone.

So he tended the rosebush, nurished, cared for, and cherished it. He hoped, perhaps,
with love and care and a gentle hand, that the rose bush might remain a part of his whole life, blessing him with its beauty year after sweet year. Hoped that he would enjoy its fragrent bouquet whenever it was near.

But he knew in his heart that, perhaps, someday he would gaze on its beauty
and smell its fragrence for the last time. So he cherished each precious moment that he spent in the presence of its beauty, knowing that he would carry the memory of the rosebush in his heart, and still recall its beauty and fragrence in the twilight of his life.

Whenever I see a rose, whenever I smell its bouquet, I will think of you and smile.

Copyright 5/13/97 by Dan Sharpe.

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