Rose’s Day

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Rose’s Day

Posted in : Beauty and Fun on by : MCPR Comments:


Rose sat on the edge of the dock outside her house. The water was shining bright pink and orange, reflecting the setting sun.

She felt the warmth of the coming night soaking into her skin. Hands on the wood planks, she ran her fingers along them, feeling the edges. She felt the grooves, the notches. She felt the imperfections.

Rose thought about how beautiful the dock looked.

All the boards and planks came together to create something absolutely wonderful.

She thought about the imperfections in the wood. She thought about herself, about her imperfections. She decided she too, was beautiful. She decided it didn’t matter what the kids at school said, all her imperfections came together to make something absolutely marvelous.

The sun shone on the landscape around Rose. Around beautiful Rose. She looked into it and it lit her eyes ablaze. A swirl of Brown and Hazel. It shone on the freckles on her nose and the little scar on her upper lip.

She watched the lake, the water rippling, the wet dirt at the edges.

Lush trees surrounded the lake, like guardians, watching over it. Standing strong. They had been there for years, watching over Rose, watching her grow and change. Watching her learn.

She felt safer in the woods. So alone, but so at home. She felt like she was finally with a family that loved her. The branches reaching down to replace the hugs she’d never received.

She thought about how the wood was made of trees. Trees that had been killed, just to make this dock. She thought about how to trees had lost their life, and the dock had been built.

Rose wondered if when she died, if something beautiful and marvelous would happen. She didn’t think so. It did give her some comfort that maybe death wasn’t completely negative.

Rose lay back on the dock. Her back on the wood, her toes in the water, her eyes gazing up into the darkening sky. The color display was fading, waiting until morning to return.

She watched the light fade, she watched the approaching blackness. She watched all the stars start to peer out of their hiding in the blue. She watched them twinkle.

She thought the sky was amazing. Each little point of light was an actual place. She thought that people took the sky for granted. Took advantage of the sky. Each dot had history. Each dot had a story. Each and every single dot had events and catastrophe. And all we saw were some silly dots.

She thought about children. She thought about how every single child was like a star. Endless potential, endless ability. Each and every single child having a story, every one having a history, a home, a backstory. Each one like characters in a massive book.

She thought about how we took advantage of that. Just the beauty of it all.

Rose lay back and thought about life, thought about love, and thought about the stars.

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