Each morning, on my way to the gym, I pass the Rose Lady.
Actually, I don’t know that she’s a lady at all; I’ve never seen her.
But in my mind’s eye, she’s an 87 year-old Greek grandmother of 15. Her long, thinning hair is so white that it looks pale next to snow, and each morning she twists it into a hasty, ever-shrinking bun at the top of her head. Her once glowing cheeks now sag in generous clumps from her zygomatic bone and are artificially hued with a pinkish-burgundy thanks to an over-application of blush. When she talks, you can’t help but be distracted by her missing front tooth. Though her age has finally caught up with her, the Rose Lady’s eyes are still penetrating.
And each day at 6:00AM, those penetrating eyes gaze upon her small but beautiful rose garden. With long days and few responsibilities, this garden has become the Rose Lady’s labor of love.
If you’re ever in Toronto, and if you ever journey down a small, unsuspecting side street, you may discover the Rose Lady’s garden.
A small, handful of people must pass this house each day. And in the upstairs window, the Rose Lady watches from behind a tattered, faded lace curtain. And as she watches, she correctly suspects that her garden is a great source of joy for those that pass.
It’s bringing smiles to the faces of strangers that motivates the Rose Lady to share her gift with the world.
June 29, 2008 at 8:19 am
sweet flowers
June 29, 2008 at 8:25 am
It is great when you happen upon simple joys in life.
I remember walking around downtown and noticing a jack of spades in a tree. I thought how random is it for there to be a card downtown. How do you lose one card?
I started to notice them more often and it became a game to see how many could I find. I decided that I should make it a game and see if I could complete a full deck.
One day while I was waiting for a friend for lunch, a guy came walking past and randomly dropped a 9 of hearts. I picked it up and called after him. He turned around and I said, “You dropped this.”
He smiled and said, “I dropped it so you would find it.”
I realized he was dropping them in hopes people would find them and maybe play a game to collect them all like I did. He brought a simple joy into my life with a simple act of dropping a card each time he went for his morning walk.
He told me that he is of course not the only person who does this but he started after he was collecting cards and ran into a lady one day who was dropping them for him to find.
It was such a simple act and became such a silly game but it made me smile and made me happier each day.
We need to be thankful for people who take time out of their lives to do little things so just make a difference in people’s lives.
June 29, 2008 at 8:32 am
beautiful… really touching. i think you have a calling to become a writer. it is these small things that brings out emotions. and you have captured them completely
June 29, 2008 at 9:11 am
Charlene..I was going to post a response that I think Davey’s writing is complete and beautiful.
The shot of the flowers is beautiful and I love flowers, but Davey’s writting has grown and add to the picture.
Thank You
Mike
June 29, 2008 at 9:40 am
Sweet Davey. Once again, you’ve managed to capture our attention with beautiful picture and as equally beautiful writing to compliment it.
Have a great day!!
June 29, 2008 at 10:07 am
Some people makes the world better and some make the world different and your Rose Lady and her garden add a touch of beauty which only a chosen few could appreciate and serendipitiously one observer of this impressive talent was witnessed by Davey-Wavey, the moderator of his own blog site on the international Internet , who posted a picture [a little c**k-eyed] and a story that now belongs to the world of dreams and legends and mythology to be a small example to all who pass, Do your positive handy-work and the world will notice! and the Rose-Lady peeked out from behind her faded curtain and smiles at her small effort for a more beautiful world! from a small acorn the mighty oak grows! it’s a miracle and I helped, thank you, GOD!
June 29, 2008 at 12:19 pm
‘The Rose Lady of Toronto” makes a beautiful impression in Davey-Wavey’s world and his blogbrothers and buddies! A neighborhood treasure and landmark originally shared by a few and now world renowned. Tell us more, maybe an interview, The favorite Rose of Toronto makes her mark one bud at a time! Are buds up for adoption, what’s the contribution for a paper certificate validating sponsership to The Rose Lady of Toronto to maintain my bud into a full blooming rose to beautify the city?
June 29, 2008 at 10:33 am
You are such a great writter. You should do a book. Maybe a gay Toronto mystery??????
June 29, 2008 at 10:46 am
I know a quote which says (I only know it in German but I try to translate it):
“… if you want to be happy for the rest of your life, design/build a garden!”
Love it! I love flowers an all the other botanical stuff. Always have to save sick flowers given me by friends an family members.
June 29, 2008 at 10:51 am
Dave,
If you have never seen her, the Rose Lady that is, how do you know that it is not some older gay gentleman?
One who has spent his life being out and active, fighting for your rights and the rights of all of your friends to be who and what they are, spreading the word that God loves them just exactly as they are, and asserting over and over again that the best life is one live in search of ones true self.
But, only now, because of the accident of age, he has been set aside, ignored, no longer sought out by the younger generation because, after all, he withered, he is old and he is not at all as desireable as the boys on the street, in the clubs or on line.
You know, the ones that are excluded when you set your age preferences in your profiles. The man that lived open and gay when it was the most dangerous, survived the AIDS plague when it was at its worst, and continues to serve as best he can in the definition, advancment and protection of his beloved LGBT community.
One, who for now, keeps roses because they remind him of the flowers he used to so enjoy adoring, caressing and loving.
How do you know it is not him, how do you know.
Are you brave enought to go to the door and find out?
SCombs9418
June 29, 2008 at 12:44 pm
How sweet and well done….
Thank YOU…
and my Seattle roses thank you
June 29, 2008 at 5:31 pm
I totally agree with you…Maybe Davey will take you up on your challenge and talk to this person.
Still love the flower shot.
June 29, 2008 at 5:36 pm
The Most Beautiful Flower
The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown
For the world was intent on dragging me down.
And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right before me with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement, “Look what I found!”
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn – not enough rain, or too little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a small smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat next to my side
And placed the flower to his nose
And declared with overacted surprise,
“It sure smells pretty and it’s beautiful, too.
That’s why I picked it; here, it’s for you.”
The weed before me was dying or dead.
No vibrant colors: orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.
So I reached for the flower and replied. “Just what I need.”
But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it mid-air without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time
That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.
I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see
The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.
And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life,
And appreciate every second that’s mine.
And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
and breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
And smiled as I watched that young boy,
Another weed in his hand,
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.
Author: Cheryl L. Costello-Forshey
June 29, 2008 at 6:23 pm
Well, Mike in big D, you caught one of the three themes of the comment, but the other two seem to remain unnoticed, just like the older gay gentleman who keeps the rose garden.
Because, you see, he cannot help but wonder how many of our younger LGBT community members have, in the midst of their taken for granted freedom, activities and access to each other, have ever considered setting aside the time to get to know, perhaps even adopt, an older member of the LGBT community, a gay aunt or uncle as the case might be, as a companion, or perhaps even a mentor.
You know, those whose work, struggle and sacrifices made it possible for the young LGBT people of today to be so free.
Those older members of the community, who, when they do dare to go into one of the clubs, to attend one of the events or strikes up a conversation at social event is immediately fronted off because they are older.
Leaving those who are too old behind as they move forward seeking only to enjoy themselves in the promised land, he wonders, how are they to find their way.
When will this community come to value its elders and honor their youth such that each supports the other in their personal development and growth.
Until then, the older gay gentleman sets behind the old lace curtain and lives on the joy of watching someone like wavey davey walk by.
In the valley of the blind, the one eyed man is King.
But in the valley of the sighted, only the youngest of the birds sing.
SCombs9418
June 29, 2008 at 6:51 pm
No..I did not miss what you are saying..I see it on this blog all the time..
Self centered people who seek only to gratify there own needs.
It bothers me to around many young gay people because they see none of our history and what may older gay people had to go thru so that they can live the benifits.
June 29, 2008 at 7:00 pm
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kHK8_VV4gEk
June 29, 2008 at 7:21 pm
Well then Mike in Big D,
The question becomes will Dave and his friends see the point?
Does their search for self actualization through their acceptance of the universe for what it is allow them to see what they might help the universe become?
Will the older birds once again sing?
Really enjoyed the video reply.
SCombs9418
June 29, 2008 at 7:36 pm
let me take a step back..I think many young people care, but are like us when we were young…Out to have as much fun and get as much dick as we could.
not a pretty sight.
June 29, 2008 at 8:07 pm
Dave in Big D,
Yes, I am sure they care. The question is why they seldom show it.
The unity of thought, word and deed are the very essence of authentity, simply to think it, or to say it when they do not act upon it leaves both the young and old incomplete.
Manners, after all, are morals writ small.
SCombs9418
June 29, 2008 at 12:41 pm
Perhaps you could write a little note telling the Rose person how much you enjoy their garden.
As a gardener, I always appreciate compliments for all of my hard work. Perhaps you could learn something from the person who has such patience to tend to their beautiful garden, it could be a life lesson.
Just a thought.
Have a GREAT day!!
June 29, 2008 at 12:47 pm
Where in Seattle do we find your garden to admire?
June 29, 2008 at 2:05 pm
Hi Dave,
The next time you walk down that street, why don’t you pop in and tell the garden owner what a beautiful garden he/she has.
You never know, he/she may give you a flower for thoughfulness and taking the time to pass a compliment.
Maybe the old woman is lonely and has created such a beautiful garden to entice people to visit her. You never know.
I’d stop in.
Craig.
June 29, 2008 at 3:47 pm
wonderful observation davey!
June 29, 2008 at 4:18 pm
Beauty is in the little things…
Nice story Davey.
Kisses.
June 29, 2008 at 10:54 pm
I have to say, you have a “thing” for writing. I have read several of your postings and its just brilliant…Keep it up… Oh and You should write a book, I bet it will make it to the top of the New York Times Best Seller List
June 29, 2008 at 11:22 pm
You missed a small calling as a writer Davey!
Wonderful descriptive language and imagery, definitely can see her face and how sweet, yet aged she truly is.
Keep up the great work in Toronto.
Much love!
Ciao – J
June 29, 2008 at 11:52 pm
Beautiful roses! I love seeing other people’s gardens. It helps to cheer me up when I’m down to see the beauty that other people have created through nature.
June 30, 2008 at 2:02 am
Davey,
I wish I could be more like you, and find the simple joys in life. I have to admit that I don’t notice these little things during the busy day, though if I stopped and slowed things down I know that there are many beautiful things to see here in Syracuse, New York.
June 30, 2008 at 5:57 pm
Strange story about a Rose
I once had a rose bush, and the flowers it bloomed where more like a cabbage. Huge! big, Red, Thick flowers, the neighbors always looked at my rosebush and always wanted to pick a flower for their home.
Me being a Nice guy, I let one of my neighbors have a bloom, she was a little old lady and she always passed by the house to smell the roses, (surprised some people actually do that) and she loved flowers, so i gave her the bloom.
The word got around the neighborhood, (its not the nicest neighborhood, more like the ghetto) and random people picked every flower the rosebush had, Clipping it and really destroying the entire plant, the rose bush eventually died.
A few months passed and i see the old lady pass by the house again, and she stops me and asks about my roses, and i tell her what happened. To my surprise she tells me the bloom i gave her, she had cultivated the seeds and it had grown very nicely.
This passed winter the old lady gave me a bloom from the rose bush she grew from the bloom i gave her. I cultivated the seeds it and its growing.
I dont know if the other blooms took, but this one had a better feel.
July 1, 2008 at 5:36 am
I was just getting ready to head out to weed my own little rose garden when I came upon the rose lady. Such a simple pleasure that can be shared with others. Just like your writing and pictures, simple pleasures, shared with others.
I agree with many of the other bloggers. Davey’s next project should be a short story, and then who knows what next . . .
July 2, 2008 at 3:56 pm
David,
From the beginning, I noticed that you had facilities for writing. You can, if you really want it, write beautiful things. Thank you very much, I really enjoyed it.
bye
Pingback: Contacting the Rose Lady.
July 3, 2008 at 9:03 am
The other day, I was leaving work and heading to the gym. I turned down one street and decided to walk on the other sidewalk for once. And then I stopped to look at this garden, and i had a vague familiarity with it. Upon looking at your post again it seems to be I stumbled upon the Rose Lady’s Garden, and that makes me happy. It really is a beautiful garden.
It was total luck that I found it I believe, but man oh man, it just solidifies the love for my neighborhood.
July 3, 2008 at 7:25 pm
that’s Heath Ledger, that makes me sad, he was a real turn on for me, and role model! If I owned a flock of sheep I would want him as my good shephard! one man’s devil is another man’s Saviour! ‘nuf’ said!