A blood red rose He gave to her
He said it was a symbol of His love
She held it in her hand so gently
caressing the petals softly
and then brought it to her nose
This rose He offered her
was the sweetest she had ever smelled
She held it to her cheek
This rose He offered her
was the softest she had ever beheld
She held it back in her hand
and looked at it closely
It was the most perfectly formed rose
she had ever seen
She held onto it tighter
not wanting to lose something so perfect
The rose began to wilt
she held it still
clenching it tighter in her grasp
not wanting to let it go
Soon the rose turned black
and the petals lost their softness
they became brittle and broke easily
She refused to let go
holding on to it tighter
the thorns digging into her palm
the blood began to run
She clasped it tighter still
not realizing her pain would end
if she would only let go
One day a stranger came
He took her by the hand
He saw the blood running from the rose
that was still clasped in her hand
and slowly He began to pull her fingers back
taking each finger one by one
from around the rose
When they had all been removed and her palm lay open
He blew lightly and the petals blew away
He took the stalk from her palm and threw it away
He cupped her chin in His hand and said:
"Little One.. You held on to it too tightly.
Once it began to die
it was time to let go.
The longer and tighter You held on
the more pain you caused yourself.
Let Me help You."
So saying, He placed her hand in His
and said to her
"Trust me."
