If you read nothing else on my blog – please read this….
November 23rd, 2005 by C.A. Dubois
It is Thanksgiving time. Holidays can be beautiful and lovely. They can also be painful and lonely. I can’t give any of you the bouquet I want to give you. You must each earn your own bouquet – your way. But I hope, as the holiday season approaches, I can give you this: a glimpse at why it has to hurt so bad in order for it to feel so good……
Below you will find the story I placed in the funeral cards for my sons, my daughter, my daddy, my loved ones and David’s parents. In any program or card used to denote a special occasion such as funeral or weddings, I honor those in my life who have died, by placing this story in the programs. At the bottem of the story, I thank my dead loved ones…..their being dead is a Thorn in my Side for sure, and what a beautiful Thorn it is.
The story below was not written by me. It was handed to me by an old woman in the hospital hallway the day my two son’s died in the car accident. She had been walking the hallways, dragging an I.V. Pole. As such she heard a lot of the talk about the accident and my son’s death. I’ll never forget when she handed it to me. “Don’t read this now. In fact, stick it in a purse or your pocket. Forget about it. It will find you when it needs to and not before then.â€
That’s what the nameless lady with the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen said to me. I did as she instructed, and true to her word this story found me on a day when I needed it most.
—–
Thankful for the Thorns
Sandra felt as low as the heels of her Birkenstocks as she pushed against aNovember gust and the florist shop door. Her life had been easy, like a spring breeze. Then, in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a minor automobile accident stole her ease. During this Thanksgiving week she would have delivered a son.
She grieved over her loss.
As if that weren’t enough, her husband’s company threatened a transfer. Then her sister, whose holiday visit she coveted, called saying she could not come. What’s worse, Sandra’s friend infuriated her by suggesting her grief was a God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with others who suffer.
“Had she lost a child? No – she has no idea what I’m feeling,” Sandra shuddered. “Thanksgiving? Thankful for what?” she wondered aloud. Thankful for a careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her? Thankful for an airbag that saved her life but took that of her child? Thankful for no family, for a job that would cause her husband to rip her away from this place she called home? Thankful for the misery of life, in all it’s gory detail?
“Good afternoon, can I help you?” The flower shop clerk’s approach startled Sandra. “Sorry,” said Jenny, “I didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you.” In Jenny’s hands was a bundle wrapped delicately in tissue, Sandra only saw stems peeking out from the bottom of the beautiful holiday paper.
“I . . . . I need an arrangement.” Sandra stammered.
“For Thanksgiving?” Jenny asked. Sandra nodded.
“Do you want beautiful but ordinary, or would you like to challenge the day with a customer favorite I call the “Thanksgiving Special.” Jenny saw Sandra’s curiosity and continued, “I’m convinced that flowers tell stories, that each arrangement insinuates a particular feeling. Are you looking for something that conveys gratitude this Thanksgiving?” There was no mistaking the twinkle in the flower shop keeper’s eyes.
“Not exactly!” Sandra blurted. “Sorry, but in the last five months, everything that could go wrong has.”
Sandra regretted her outburst. It wasn’t this florist who had created her misery. Not that the shopkeeper could ever understand her pain, Sandra thought, however, Sandra was surprised when Jenny said, “I have the perfect arrangement for you.”
The florist shop’s small door bell suddenly rang.
“Barbara! Hi,” Jenny cried enthusiastically to the new customer entering. She politely excused herself from Sandra and walked toward a small workroom. Jenny quickly reappeared carrying a massive arrangement of green bows, and long-stemmed thorny roses. HOWEVER, the ends of the rose stems were neatly snipped. There were NO flowers on the bouquet Jenny held out for her customer’s inspection.
“Want this in a box?” Jenny asked Barbara.
Sandra watched for Barbara’s response. Was this a joke? Who would want rose stems and no flowers! She waited for laughter, for someone to notice the absence of flowers atop the thorny stems, but neither woman did.
“Yes, please. It’s exquisite,” said Barbara. “You’d think after three years of getting the special, I’d not be so moved by its significance, but it’s happening again.†Barbara took the bow wrapped box from Jenny and paid for her bouquet. “My family will love this one. Thank you Jenny.” Barbara waved one last time and left the floral shop.
Sandra stared. Did they just talk as if that arrangement had been a normal one, she wondered. “Ah,†said Sandra, pointing towards the door. “That lady just left with, ah . . .”
“Yes?”
“Well, she had no flowers! They were cut off.†Sandra stated in shock.
“Yep. That’s the Special.†Jenny announced with a gleam in her eye. “I call it the ‘Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet.’ – pretty clever huh?”
Sandra nodded. “But, why do people pay for that?” In spite of herself she chuckled. Paying for thorned stems was – absurd.
“Do you really want to know?” Jenny asked very seriously.
“I couldn’t leave this shop without knowing. I’d think about nothing else!” Sandra gave her full attention to the floral clerk.
“That might be good,” said Jenny. For a moment Jenny looked into Sandra’s eyes.
“Well,” Jenny continued, “Barbara came into the shop three years ago, feeling very much like you feel today. She thought she had very little to be thankful for. She had lost her father to cancer, the family business was failing, her son was into drugs, and she faced major surgery.”
“Oh!” Sandra gasped.
“That same year, I lost my husband. I assumed complete responsibility for the shop and for the first time, and spent the holidays alone. I had no children, no husband, no family nearby, and too great a debt to allow any travel.” Jenny confessed quietly.
“What did you do?” Sandra whispered. She couldn’t imagine herself in the shopkeeper’s shoes.
“I learned to be thankful for thorns.”
Sandra’s eyebrows lifted. “Thorns?”
“I’m a Christian, Sandra. I’ve always thanked God for good things in life and I never thought to ask Him why good things happened to me. But, when bad stuff came….†Jenny’s voice faded for only a moment. “Did I ever ask!†She confessed seriously.
Sandra couldn’t speak. All too often lately she had been busy asking a supposed God why.
Jenny continued with a smile, “It took time to learn that dark times are important. I always enjoyed the flowers’ of life but it took thorns to show me the beauty of the Universe. You know, the Universe comforts us when we’re afflicted and from that consolation we learn to comfort others.”
Sandra gasped. “A friend said that to me and I was furious! I guess the truth is, I don’t want comfort. I’ve lost a baby and I’m angry.” Sandra started to ask Jenny to “go on” when the door’s bell diverted their attention.
“Hey, Phil!” shouted Jenny as a balding, rotund man entered the shop. Jenny softly touched Sandra’s arm and moved to welcome the man who entered. Sandra watched as He tucked Jenny under his side for a warm hug. “I’m here for twelve thorny long-stemmed stems!” Phil laughed, heartily.
“I figured as much,” said Jenny. “I’ve got them ready.” Lifting a tissue-wrapped arrangement from the refrigerated cabinet, Jenny held it out for display.
“Beautiful,” said Phil. “My wife will love them.” Reaching for his wallet, Phil stepped to the counter to pay jenny for his arrangement.
Sandra could not resist asking, “Those are for your wife? Do you mind me asking, why thorns?”
Phil saw that Sandra’s curiosity matched his when he first heard of The Thorn Bouquet. Gently looking Sandra in the eye, he spoke. “In fact, I’m glad you asked. Four years ago my wife and I nearly divorced. After forty years, we were in a real mess, the love was gone but we slogged through, problem by rotten problem.†Phil took a deep breathe and smiled softly. “Those Thorns rescued our marriage – our love, really. Two years ago, at Thanksgiving, I stopped in here for flowers. I must have mentioned going through a tough time because Jenny told me of a vase of rose stems. She said they were a reminder of what she learned from ‘thorny’ times.†Phil gave a sweet wink to Jenny.
Looking back to Sandra, Phil continued. “That was good enough for me. I took home stems. My wife and I decided to label each one for a specific thorny situation and give thanks for what the problem taught us.†For a moment Sandra felt a lump in her throat. “I guess that is when we saw things clearly. This is our favorite tradition” Phil announced with pride. Jenny nodded. Phil paid Jenny, thanked her again and as he left, said to Sandra, “I highly recommend the Special!”
With the tinkle of the bell, the sweet man left the store. Silence surrounded both women for only a moment.
“I don’t know if I can be thankful for the thorns in my life,” Sandra whispered to Jenny.
“Well, my experience says that thorns make roses more precious. Remember, Sandra, Jesus wore a crown of thorns so that we might know His love. Do not resent thorns.” Jenny reached out and touched Sandra’s hand.
Tears rolled down Sandra’s cheeks. For the first time since the accident she loosened her grip on resentment. “I’ll take twelve long-stemmed thorns, please.”
“I hoped you would,” Jenny smiled proudly. “I’ll have them ready in a minute. Then, every time you see them, remember to appreciate both good and hard time. We grow through both.”
Jenny carefully gathered twelve long stemmed roses from the refrigerated cabinet. Neatly and lovingly she cut the blooms from the stems and wiped them out of her way. Wrapping the thorns in a beautiful paper with a gold, glittery bow, she walked back to the counter where Sandra stood.
“Thank you. What do I owe you?” Sandra whispered to the woman.
“Nothing, you owe me nothing. But to yourself you owe a pledge to work toward healing your heart. The first year’s arrangement is always on me.” For a moment Sandra fought against the pledge. That’s when Jenny handed a card to Sandra. “Normally I attach a card like this to your arrangement but maybe you’d like to read it first.â€
Sandra took the card with trembling hand as Jenny’s voice urged her on, “Go ahead, read it.”
This is what the card read:
To The Universe or God,
I have never thanked you for my thorns! I have thanked you a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my thorns. Teach me of the pain I bear; teach me the value of my thorns. Show me that I have grown by the path of pain. Show me that my tears have made my rainbow. Show me how beautiful my thorns really are and let me this once, thank you for my thorns.
——- © George Matheson
To every single person reading this,
In your pain, you are not alone. I too have been pricked and now bleed from the thorns in my life. It is those painful moments that make knowing you, via this blog; that much more beautiful and special to me.
Today I am Thankful for all of my Thorns. I’m also Thankful you and I connected somehow. I am thankful.
Happy Thanksgiving
Love,
Cyli
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- Posted in Holidays, Inspirations, Writing
