I always loved going to my Grandmas house. When we were there it usually included playing in her large yard. The popular game was always hide and seek. We would count with our face against the bricks on her large front porch.
I loved and hated that porch. The porch was wide open, with ornate metal poles on each corner. The steps were long enough to lay on, without your feet hanging over. Grandmas porch faced south. On the east side there was a flower bed, with a wide pine bush that rested to the side of the porch. On the west side there were 5 rose bushes. They were all different colors and heights. When our game of hide and seek became competitive, we would jump over the rose bushes and begin running.
I remember when I was younger taking the dare to jump over those challenging bushes. My first attempt ended with my shirt catching a branch and the thorns slicing my side and back. I remember screaming. I hated that rose bush and thought it was so mean. But sure enough the dare came again, with the promise that the rose bush wouldn’t get me again. I believed, and made the jump like before. This time my pant leg caught the bush and the thorns cut up my leg and arm. My hate for those roses grew. Once again the dare came to jump over the roses. I saw my brother do it and the roses didn’t get him. My brother told me that I was bigger now and I could jump farther. I decided to jump. My shoe lace caught the thorny branch and I tumbled down into the rose bush. Tears came and then anger.
I went inside to get help with all my cuts. I remember telling my grandma how much I hated those rose bushes. She said, “If you hate them so much, why do you keep jumping over them?” I said, “Because everyone else does and nothing happens to them.” I continued , “Why don’t you rip them out and plant something else that’s safer?” She said, “Because I like them there and they weren’t meant to be jumped over.” I asked, “Why do you like things with thorns?” She said, “Not everything worth having comes the way we like them.”
This became a powerful conversation for me. I thought about it a lot. I stood on the edge of my grandmas porch looking down at the roses and said, “Why do you hate me so much?” I felt like they spoke back and said, “What have we done that makes you hate us so much?” I walked down the stairs and stood in front of them. They didn’t look so scary from down there. I bent over and smelled each color of rose. They were all so different, but lovely. I decided right then that, because they were loved by my grandma, I would learn to love them too.
I later learned from my grandma, that there were certain ways to hold the roses so the thorns didn’t poke you. She showed me how to cut them and arrange them in a jar. She even bought me my own rose bush to plant anywhere in her yard. This began my forever love of roses. Each rose bush has there own type of thorns, but the beauty of the flower is what captivates me the most.
As I have taken this lesson that my grandma taught me, I can apply it to many different aspects of my life. For example, each person that I have met contains their own “thorns”; bad habits, difficult personality, and life choices. Each situation in life has its own “thorns”; having children-the labor and delivery, your job, owning a home, and life in general. In all of the areas of life, we can go around complaining about the “thorns” or we can learn the lesson my grandma taught me, the proper way to deal with the “thorns”, so you can enjoy the flowers. The choice is yours. The “thorns” can keep you from the beauty of it, or it can enhance your growth by learning to love them in spite of it.