Yellow Roses

By Maggie Gula

            When my dad retired after fifty years in dentistry, he continued playing golf several times a week and took up rose gardening.  He grew beautiful roses that he always shared with my mom, the neighbors and me.

            Several years later when his health began to fail, the once beautiful rose garden went untended and the bushes looked like sticks.  Caretakers had their hands full just taking care of Mom and Dad, so the rose garden had to be neglected.

            When Dad died, I can remember noticing how hopeless the rose garden looked and thought about cutting the rose bushes way back. However, Mom’s care was becoming paramount so that didn't get done before she died four months after Dad.  

            As I drove away from their villa to make plans for the Memorial Service for Mom, I wondered if I could transplant at least one of my dad's once beautiful rose bushes to my house to see if I could revive it. 

            Two weeks later, when I returned to their home for the Memorial Service, I was amazed to see two beautiful yellow roses with leaves at the top of one of the tall stems.  The family pastor instructed me to cut the two roses and put them in a bud vase, which was displayed on the altar for the Memorial Service. To my family it was a sign from God that he had my mom and dad safely in his arms.  Thanks be to God.