Ever since I can remember I've been growing. My first memories of the garden make me smile. My brothers and sisters stand next to me and they touch me. As I grow... they grow. We get bigger with each passing day. But... What Am I???
That... is the big question. I am green and I have strong stems. I look at my siblings and I cannot guess what we are. They are green and have strong stems also. Even with harsh weather they stand tall. They have seen many cold winters. Some of my siblings didn't make it through the winter and they had to be removed. But most of them are still in the garden. I have not seen winter. What is winter?
My leaves are a little withered. I do not look as nice as my siblings. They mock me and make fun of me. They say I will be removed... but I am determined NOT to be removed. I am young. I have MUCH more life in me. But... WHAT am I???
Am I a tree that grows tall? With leaves that reach to the sky and wide as the wind? How long will I live? If I live to be a hundred I will have tales to tell. With each new growth ring I will have a new story. It would be great to be a tree.
Maybe I am a blade of grass? A single blade of grass can have leaves and grow tall with flowers on the ends that turn into seeds and make more grass. Some grasses are cut short and not allowed to seed. Those grasses are manicured and fed twice a year. The winter does not kill the grass. Grass does well with little water. When will I be watered? I am thirsty. It would be nice to be grass.
I hope I'm not a weed. My siblings say weeds are removed and not allowed to be in the garden. They are poisoned and pulled before they are tall. They say weeds are a menace and will not be tolerated. I hope I am not a weed... No it would NOT be nice to be a weed.
I grow faster with each passing day. The weather is warming. I am not thirsty any longer. Warm water fell on me and now I am tall. Something has started to grow on my longest branch. It is getting bigger and bigger. My siblings say it is called a bud. They say a flower will appear from the bud. It has... it is purple and yellow and white. My siblings say my flower is ugly. It should be one color like theirs. I am a freak. I will be removed! I am frightened. I do not want to be removed.
But wait... Only a part of me is being removed. The bud that has formed into the flower is being removed from the rest of me. A few of my siblings' flowers are being removed also. I do not want a part of me to be removed. I am happy in the garden as I am.
I see my flower through a window, it is being cared for. It is given water daily and it shares a space with my siblings' flowers. I see a picture on the wall. It is my flower! My sibling’s flowers don't have a place on the wall like MY flower does. I stand tall. There is a tiny plaque on the bottom of the picture. It says what I am... At last I know the answer to my question... What Am I? I am from the family of Rosacea, the subfamily of Rosoideae, the Genus Rosa, I am proud to be a beautiful Rose.
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