Two Rose Bushes

I have said many times that I have no idea who actually reads these posts.  I don't know how to monitor who subscribes to the blog, and few people ever send me comments (except for my daughter Katie and Ms. Karen ~ so nice to hear from you!). However, curiosity always comes in the form of a text or a phone call from friends and family.
  
Tell me about the two rose bushes!  When are you going to write about the lesson you learned from the two rose bushes?  I want to read about the man who planted the two rose bushes in front of the dilapidated house.

TODAY'S BIG STORY: The twin sisters find a happy ending!

Somehow I missed the two rose bushes when they were first planted. I only noticed them during their first season of bloom, which was two years ago ~ and do they ever bloom.  Throughout their blooming season, the two rose bushes look as though they could be featured as an advertised variety in the Jackson and Perkins rose catalog. The rich, red, velvety blooms are the size of dinner-plate dahlias ~ four to six inches each, at least.  The stems are long, and the foliage is a lush, dark green. I call the two rose bushes the twin sisters, and I have been drawn to their enchanting allurement for two years. Because there has been a NO TRESPASSING sign on the front door of the home, I have never stopped on the side of the road and taken a picture.  I can only come close to describing the symmetrical beauty of the superb performers as two stunning, oversize bouquets perfectly arranged for a grand foyer in a stately mansion.

However, these two rose bushes are not the floral embellishments of a palatial estate. The twin sisters reside at the remnants of a run-down poultry farm. The roofs of the two hen houses are falling in, and most of the wall materials have been removed. To the side of the tattered, tumble-down chicken farm is a neglected worker's shanty.  With the exception of the two rose bushes, the place looks deserted and dilapidated.  Even the old man whom I would occasionally see at the farm looks bent-over and worn-out.

Why? is the question I asked myself.  Why in the world would anyone plant such beautiful roses in front of a total eyesore? The answer to that question is where the lesson began for me. The life lecture started with the front porch...

I saw the old man doing something to the front of the house about six months after the two roses' first blooming season. Hmm...every morning and evening I watched him as he built the cutest front porch out of the scrap lumber from the poultry house.  He painted the front porch railing a bright white, which immediately gave the weathered shack a welcomed face lift. About six months later, he began the process of removing the rotten decking around the house and replacing the broken pieces of wood siding ~ once again, using the leftover lumber from the abandoned hen houses.

Of course, the twin sisters were showing off the entire time! Then came the A-ha Moment! The two rose bushes were never intended to be the first chapter; the two rose bushes are the happy ending! He planted the final embellishments first!  In the old man's mind, the two rose bushes served as a daily reminder of the loveliness that he planned to create. I did not understand the purpose behind the two rose bushes, because I could not see the vision of the designer nor could I imagine the artistry of his handiwork.

Day by day, I watched as he matched the surroundings of his habitation to the aesthetic glory of the two rose bushes.  About six months ago, he took the last pieces of the used tin from the chicken houses and placed it on top of his charming little cottage.  After resourcing all the usable materials from the old farm, he completely removed any remaining debris.  In the early spring, he began tilling the "fertilized" area where the hen houses once stood to plant a small garden.

Now, the twin sisters absolutely belonged.  The two rose bushes sit on either side of the most whimsical little cottage painted a morning fog gray with a bright white porch.  The garden is ripe for harvest, and the entire residence is completely transformed.  Of course, since most of the work is complete, the old man doesn't look as tired. To be quite honest, he doesn't look old at all!

Just amazing...the lesson of the two rose bushes.  If only we could see the flowery finished product first.  If only we could be driven by the most desired outcome and be reminded of that ideal on a daily basis.  The two rose bushes were not just horticultural wonders; they were the architect's foresight, his perspective, his breadth of view.  All of which were beyond my limited range of perception and depth of field.

Even though the NO TRESPASSING sign is gone, I think I understand the purpose of why it remained on the front door throughout the process.  Sometimes we have a vision, and we need our own NO TRESPASSING sign. The sign says to the passerby, "This is a work in progress. This is my private space. Do not knock on my door and tell me that my dream is a lost cause. Don't undermine my decisions or second-guess my intentions.  LEAVE MY ROSE BUSHES ALONE!"

One other lesson I learned from the two rose bushes is that sometimes the work is being done behind the scenes, and we just don't see it.  I am sure that somewhere behind that beautifully-restored cottage is a stack of lumber and a pile of tin.  We see the clever restoration, but we don't always see makeshift provisions.  We recognize the refined outcome, but we often overlook the raw, rudimentary elements of the grand design.

The twin sisters are now fully mature; their beauty is unmatched.  The elderly man's residence is restored, and his dream is realized.  Every morning when I drive to work, I see him working in his garden. Every evening when I drive home, I see him sitting on his front porch.

And I think to myself, it all ended with two rose bushes...

Dianne ; )