Things in my Room.

Roses.

My obsession with roses began at a young age. I was two or three when I witnessed my parents fight. I sat on the bleak living room steps, illuminated by the television, sobbing. Part of me understood why they were fighting, the other was too naive. They yelled, they cursed, I cried. I longed to understand why my parents didn't love each other like those people on the television. The next day, my father comes home with a large, luminous bouquet of roses. He gave them to my mother, describing the meaning of each color: red for the love I have, pink for the joy that I have, yellow for the friend I have forever, and blue, for the feeling of how sincerely sorry I am. My mother cried, but not for sadness, but for complete and utter joy. I fell in love with the colors and meaning that roses give. My father proceeded to give my mom a rose for every anniversary and after every fight, to remind her that he loves her so.  In my family, we don't say we love each other, we show it, even if it is rare. 

Around eight or nine, I began longing for a rose to receive myself. I finally got one, from myself. My family and I were on vacation in one of those antique lodges. The lodge was geared to "family fun". There was a children's spa, and arcade, waterpark, and interactive "wizard" games all around. I loved this place, and long to be back. I received my rose in the arcade. The arcade was empty at the time, only my family and the prize clerk. There sat a black leather purse, full of items, on one of the games. It didn't feel like it belonged to the clerk. I thought, surely someone is missing this purse. Of course being young, I thought for a split second that no one would notice, then I started walking.  I stopped myself half way to the door and made a beeline to the clerk.  I explained I had found this and was hoping to find it's owner. The clerk smiled. She looked at me with a sense of proudness in her eyes. She explained that I will be rewarded greatly for my good deed. I could have anything behind the counter; behind that counter sat game systems, flat screen televisions etc. I already had my eyes set on a plastic rose that was only 15 tickets. I didn't to take anything from the clerk, so I counted my tickets. I counted 14 with pride until realizing I was one ticket short. My heart sank, and I turned to leave. The clerk called me back. She had stepped out from behind the counter and dropped to my eye level. She pulled a ticket from her pocket and handed it to me. She looked at me and said, " I think this is yours." I was confused, but I played along. I laid down all 15 tickets on the counter and asked for the plastic rose. She handed it to me with no hesitation, and a huge lovely smile. For the rest of my stay, I held on to that rose like it was my life. The Rose now sits above my desk to remind me to be proud of the good deeds I do, and good karma will be in your favor. 

It was valentine's day at my high school. I was a young freshman sitting in class.  It's tradition to send a rose to someone you love, whether anonymously or very knowingly. Each rose costs $6 yet some girls end the day with a dozen roses. I longed to receive one, but I knew no one thought of me in such high regards. I sat in my first period, doodling a small rose on my paper, as someone walked in with a dozen roses. She began to list off names of those who were lucky to receive one. She stopped with three in her hands, looking as if she were reading and trying to decipher an encrypted message. I offered to help read the message. As I looked at the slip, my face turned red. The note read in hardly readable, messy handwriting: to Maddie, your friends will always love you when you can't love yourself. I took the roses from the girl and thanked her. The girl next to me made mention that I must have a very secret admirer, to which I half-heartedly chuckled at. The whole day I read the message over and over. At this time in my life, I hated everything about myself. I didn't eat and I rarely talked to anyone. I began to lose myself and not care for my life. I began to accept that I didn't deserve to be happy. Receiving those roses began the snowball of trying to change and discover the person that is me for the good. Though I will till have those dark, gloomy days, I know I find joy in making the people around me happy, by caring for them and loving them. I've spent hundreds of dollars, buying roses for each of my friends, in hopes of making their day filled with a little more love.

You will always find some kind of rose in my room, in hopes to remind myself of joy, love and being kind. 

"One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon instead of the roses that are blooming outside our windows today"

~ Dale Carnegie