Come on baby, light my fire...

A few years ago Handsome "had" to have a weed dragon.  You know one of those torch devices that hooks up to your propane tank from the grill.

 "It'll be perfect for me to use around your garden," he said.

Humph!  Famous words...everytime he uses it, I panic!  I get the garden hose and stand at the ready just in case something goes out of control.  Well, this spring the unthinkable happened, he used the dreaded dragon when I wasn't around.  When I returned he sheepishly says, "you may want to check your rose, I think I may have killed it."

 This was what I saw!  I was horrified because this wasn't just any old rose bush, this was a gift I had purchased, planted, nurtured...for our twentieth anniversary.  It was meant to be a symbol of our undying love and affection...a plant that our children and grandchildren would take cuttings from and start their own rosebushes.  I literally cried.  For days whenever I would see its charred branches at the edge of my beloved garden, a knot would form in my throat and I would have to choke back the tears.  I was hurt that his need to burn the grass around the outside of my garden had killed our "rose of love."

Rather than dig it up and toss it in the compost pile, I left it there as a reminder albeit a symbol of how fragile life and love is...how it can be gone in the flash of an eye, or flame of the weed dragon!  Several weeks went by and Handsome came running in the door, "go look at your rose of love...it's coming out!!!"

So I hurried out to find one tiny stalk coming up from the soil right in the midst of the burned bush.  I was skeptical and snorted, "it'll never be the same, it's just a fluke.  You killed my rose!"

But sweetly and full of love, Handsome began to clip away the dead branches.  New life emerged and before I knew it, my rose of love was again full of beautiful leaves and blossoms! 

 

When I was a kid, I can remember my Dad explaining that sometimes a fire is necessary to burn off the old chaff in a field or forest.  He would encourage me to watch as new life would emerge brighter, healthier than it was before.  I am one crazy blessed girl to have learned this beautiful lesson again this spring that no matter what fires may strike, we can bloom again!