Juliet: "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."
My father in law loved his roses. He tended them in Yuma, Arizona, which if you've ever visited there, you'd wonder how a rose could possibly live there. When he passed away suddenly, almost three years ago, a family member went to Yuma & dug up his roses to give to my husbands siblings. Ron & Brenda arrived in Flagstaff with five gallon buckets, each with a rose plant in it. "It's never going to make it in Flagstaff", I said. The roses arrived when snow had already started to fall. So we left the rose neglected in our garage until spring. In a five gallon bucket. In the dark.
When we planted it in the spring time, we really had no hope of it living. It was a short stub with no signs of life. But we planted it anyway. Imagine our surprise when it bloomed the first time! And our surprise that what we were told was a yellow rose was, in fact, pink. It's never been a healthy rose plant. I think I really need to look into what it needs for fertilizer. But every year it struggles to produce just a few blooms. The one in todays photo is the first bloom in months. The stalks (is that what you call them?) that the roses grow on are very slender & weak looking. But still it blooms. I think there's a lesson here...perseverance.
steady persistence in a course of action, a purpose, a state, etc., especially in spite of difficulties, obstacles, or discouragement.
Theology . continuance in a state of grace to the end, leading to eternal salvation.