One day they spoke to each other. Now these roses didn’t have mouths or throats so they couldn’t speak like we do but they could communicate through their roots. And it was as their roots were spreading that they connected.
“Hello Rose-to-my-right!” greeted the Left rose.
“Good morning Rose-to-my-left! My apologies if my roots bumped into yours.” replied the Right rose.
“Oh not at all. I am very happy to meet you” returned the Left rose.
“How do you like this neighbourhood?” inquired Right rose.
“Well it’s just fine I think. I never thought about it before. Why do you ask?” answered Left rose.
“One of my rose hips blew close to the river and reported back to me that although the scenery is lovely, it could get very windy there.”
(Rose hips are the fruit that grow after flower dies. They become orange or red and are full of seeds. The birds carry them away, eat them and when the seeds pass through their stomachs, some settle in the soil, and grow into rose bushes too.)
The left rose being sympathetic said “How difficult for her. I am quite content here – we have shade when the sun gets too hot and shelter in the wind and rain from the tall trees. We are lucky to be here”.
“Yes I am grateful for all these things, but we are so dependent on the weather. If the sun and rain don’t return in the right order there is nothing we can do about it. We could shrivel up and die”, sighed Right rose.
“True. True.” agreed Left rose.
“Wouldn’t it be good if we grew wings and could fly to wherever the birds go? Or could run to different places like mice?” asked Right rose.
“No not really” said Left rose. “Because if we moved about we would become birds or mice, and how would the other creatures find our flowers for the nectar and pollen? How would they find rose hips?”
“Ah I never thought of that.”
“Where would the ants find seeds and dried leaves if they were not tucked in beneath our branches hiding in the soil? And how would the worms hide from birds as they scavenge around the top of the earth” Left rose continued, unable to stop herself.
“Okay. I get it now” Right rose chimed, feeling a little embarrassed that she hadn’t thought of these things before, adding “and how would our fragile leaves survive if we ran around the forest scraping against other plants?” This was to assure her neighbour that she fully understood.
“Of course – we would not survive if our leaves got damaged”, said Left rose.
Having regained her confidence in observation, Right rose added “and then there are all these different plants around us, feeding different birds and insects who might not like rose hips. It’s amazing that we all offer different gifts isn’t it?”
“Not to mention how pretty we all look together, although we roses are the most beautiful.” bragged Left rose.
“And we won’t tell anyone about that”, advised Right rose. “We’ll let it speak for itself.”
Then a little voice from a few feet back announced. “I don’t agree – I think we are just as beautiful” said the wild ginger.
“So are we” chimed the pink mountain heather.
“What about us?” asked the salmonberry.
“Oops, I think others were listening to our conversation”, said Right rose humbly.
Later that day the flowers realized that each one was unique and each one had a particular purpose, just as each child has a unique purpose and each adult a particular beauty, and together we make a blooming meadow.
