HopeMore Like This
I walked the garden after the storm, taking in how the rain and the wind had wreaked havoc on the delicate stems of the roses. Everywhere I looked the branches were bare and forlorn, not a bud in sight.
Unheeded tears fell on my cheeks, seeing your beautiful creation ravaged so was too much to bear. But then, I saw something and paused. A single bloom hung from a branch. It had held on against the driving rain and the howling wind, it was bent but not broken.
I knelt in the mud and cradled the blossom in my hands. If it could survive such a beating, then surely I would find my way through the sorrow of your leaving.
The next summer there were more roses than ever before. And I was no longer alone.