She planted a lily, her mothers favorite as soon as the soil had warmed

she watered, fed and tended as any good gardener would. No matter what 

she did reading books, chat with friends, babied and talked to, the lily would not

bloom. Nor would it grow taller, wider darker green or lighter it stayed the same as the

day she planted it on her mothers grave.

She became quite ill that fall and was not able to tend her mothers grave site

nor the lily she had planted there. A full season had passed and spring was here again

May Day had been and gone , the weather was beautiful each day warm with sun and gentle wind.

The peonies ..cemetery flowers she called them as a child..where in perfect bloom. She went to the cutting  garden in her yard to make a bouquet for mother on this day.

As she arrived at the cemetery she was amazed at how profusely all the flowers had grown.

When she arrived at her mothers site she abruptly sat on the near~ by bench for there, where the lily had not grown was a beautiful full white rose bush with an abundance of blooms and petals scattered over the entire grave. There was no lily to be found anywhere near just her favorite white rose.

She went to the caretakers cottage to inquire as to who had planted the rose bush only to be informed

no one had , that when she had quit visiting it started to grow and just continued to grow blooming throughout the fall and winter too. No one had tended it at all it just continued to grow profusely as if to say “here I am.”

She walked away knowing her mother had sent her a message with the roses, that when she was ill her mother was watching over her, and she should never feel alone again.