Of all the plants in my garden, the one that brings me the most pleasure is the one that blooms for only two weeks a year. While I appreciate the shrubs and flowers that faithfully produce all season long, none of them began with my grandmother's hands.The rambling rose that covers one corner of our front yard fence came from a cutting my Aunt Shirley took from what was one of grandmother's favorite roses. It likely is New Dawn, a heavily-thorned rambler that produces roses that begin as a pale pink and fade to near white.
The rose blooms each year right around Mother's Day, as it has this year. My aunt tells me that in many churches, tradition says a woman wears a red rose on Mother's Day if her mother still is with her. Those whose mothers have passed on wear a white rose. My grandmother always cut a big bowl of blooms from her rose each year and offered them to others.
Many of her children and grandchildren, like me, have a cutting from her rose, which undoubtedly is more than 100 years old.
Long after my grandmother died, the rose bush she planted grew gloriously in the abandon field where she planted it. It was a sight to see, many yards wide, filled with the lovely blooms.
Happy Mother's Day to each of you.
