THE ROSE

The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn’t already know.

I stood up look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lip up her entire being.

She said “hi handsome. My name is Rose. I’m eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?”

I laughed and enthusiastically responded, “Of course you may!” and she gave me a giant squeeze.

“Why are in college at such a young, innocent age?” I asked.

She jokingly replied “I’m here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids…”

“No, seriously,” I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.

“I always dreamed of having a college education and now I’m getting one.” She told me.

After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake. We became instant friends.

Everyday for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop.

I was always mesmerized listening to this “time machine” as she shared her wisdom and experience with me. Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and easily made friends wherever she went.

She loves to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from other students.

She was living it up. At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I’ll never forget what she taught us.

She was introduced and steeped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simple say,

“I’m sorry I’m so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whisky is killing me! I’ll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know.”

As we laughed she cleared her throat and began “we do not stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor everyday. You’ve got to have a dream. When you loose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don’t even know it.”

“There’s a huge difference between growing older and growing up. If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don’t do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If  I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn to eighty-eight.

Anybody can grow older. That doesn’t take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding the opportunity in change. Have no regrets. The elderly usually don’t have regrets for what we did, but rather for thing we did not do. The only people who fear death are those who regrets.”

She concluded her speech by courageously singing “The Rose”.

She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives.

At the year’s end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all tho9se years ago.

One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.

Over two thousand college student attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it’s never too late to be all you can possibly be.

Remember, Growing older is mandatory. Growing up is optional. We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give.

THE ROSE

Some say love, it is a river that drowns the tender reed.

Same say love, it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed.

Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need.

I say love, it is a flower, and You its only seed.

It’s the heart, afraid of breaking, which never learns to dance.

It’s the dream, afraid of waking, that never takes a chance.

It’s the one who won’t be taken, who cannot seem to give.

And the soul, afraid of dyin’, that never learns to live.

When the night has been too lonely,

      and the road has been too long,

And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong,

Just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snows,

Lies the seed, that which the sun’s love, in the spring becomes THE ROSE

†M