The Rose: An Allegory

Marcus stepped into the garden and was immediately amazed by the sheer beauty that surrounded him. Flowers blanketed the ground, climbed up the stone walls, and reached out to greet him. Subtle fragrances danced around him and beckoned him farther into the garden, intoxicating him. Marcus decided to take a flower blossom. If he just picked a single blossom, surely no one would notice. Yet, there were so many to choose from. He spent a long time contemplating which color, shape, fragrance, was the most beautiful of all. And then he saw the rose. The blood red petals called out his name. marcus, marcus. The siren's song of the blossom's perfume clouded his thoughts. Marcus. He reached for the stem. Marcus. His name crescendoed as his hand neared. Marcus! His best friend was standing right behind him. Come on, let's play. So Marcus left the garden with plans to return for that rose. However, Marcus did not know that, while he was away, the thorns plotted his demise.

Marcus went back to the garden. His eyes were only for the rose. His nose was only for the rose. His hand was only for the rose. But as he reached for the stem, he noticed something he had not seen the day before: little bumps on the stem. Ugly bumps. Sharp bumps with traces of dried blood left behind. Suddenly, Marcus was disgusted. He could not believe that he had let himself be fooled. The blood red petals had hidden the pain inflicted. Tears swelled as Marcus turned to leave the garden. It was only then that he realized that the Gardener had been in the garden the whole time. Why does this flower hate everyone? The Gardener smiled. She doesn't hate anyone. Her heart is bleeding. That is why her petals are red. She sees her thorns as imperfection. That is why she pricks anyone who comes near her. But doesn't she know she's beautiful? No. But some day soon, she'll let me take the thorns of and wash the blood from her stem. She wants to be picked but doesn't think herself worthy. Some day, someday soon she will let someone past the thorns.