February 16, 2009 by currbell
Last year on Valentine’s day The Man was out of town, and due to be home soon after. My heart full of love dreams and missing him. I stopped in a shop that evening and saw the sweetest thing, a scruffy guy with a camo-back pack and a single, lovely, pink rose sticking out of the bag. I wanted to take his picture, but didn’t for fear of being too conspicuous and making him uncomfortable. But I smiled at the thought of him and the possibility of some cherished smiling girl out there as I left the shop. Driving up to the stop light I saw the same rose laying in the middle of the street! I anxiously scanned the street for him to no avail while imagining his embarrassment as he reached behind his back to surprise that girl of his with a little piece of thoughtfulness only to grasp at thin air. Then another thought struck me, maybe this rose was really for me; maybe this was God’s way of reminding me that he loved me. I stared down at the lovely rose, perfectly formed contrasted against the cold wet pavement, and started to open my door to claim it, pausing as I noticed a car turning onto my tight street. And like slow motion, my eyes never leaving the rose, I watched in horror as the mean old vehicle ran over first the stem, tilting that flower face up towards me and the giant tires slowly but quickly like in a bad dream flattened my little self ordained gift from God. I sat at the stop light, stunned, staring at the ground. Now it was a little circle of crushed dirty nothing, little more than a 1/4″ thick. What could I do but laugh? Maybe that was God’s little gift to me.