— Hello, rose. You are especially beautiful today. How do you manage to maintain this majestic appearance amidst so many weeds and chaos? — … — I often come to you when I'm feeling down. I don't know if you can hear me. But your petals, your stem, your thorns — they are like a parable that can be deciphered endlessly. Look at your bud. It's still closed, but you can already feel — a miracle is budding inside. — Do you think I don't know what fear is? — the silence answers me. — Look at my thorns. They are my protection. But every day I risk opening up, so that someone or something can touch my core. — Yes, thorns... I've grown my own. From hurt, from betrayal. But they don't help; they only push people away. How do you dare to open up? — I trust the sun. And the morning dew. And the wind. Sometimes the gardener comes and cuts me. But even then, I am happy for the one who holds me in their hands. Fear disappears when you realize: your beauty is not just for you. It is to be shared. — It's hard to give yourself when there's an emptiness inside. — Look into your root. Remember where you come from? From the earth that smells of rain. From the seed that didn't fear the darkness to break through to the light. You have grown. You stand. Is that not a reason for joy? — I often compare myself to other roses. They have larger petals, brighter colors. And mine... — You have a unique hue. There are no two identical roses. And there is no "correct" rose. There is only yours. Look at your leaves. Even with the web, even with the heavy raindrop that weighs like a tear. You are. And that is a miracle. — But what about the thorns? They hurt those who want to get close. — Thorns are boundaries. Not everyone deserves your depth. But if someone is ready to endure the stings to reach the core — that is your person. Don't turn away. And those who are afraid can be given a glance or a light fragrance from a distance. — And do you never want to be not a rose, but, say, a daisy? To be loved ... Read more