I have a farmers market stand (I raise herbs, offer plants, arrangements, herb crafts, herbal soap.. just a little assortment of folk type garden crafts). It was a busy Saturday, and I like it when the old timers come through because they are usually in a good mood and share garden and farm stories.
A woman came up looking at the flower arrangements. She sort of pushed others aside, and was very insistent.
“What is this flower? What is this? My father passed away and these were at his funeral. What is this flower? Oh, I need to know this flower!”
As my own father passed away just 2 weeks earlier, this immediately got my full attention. And my mother passed away 2 months prior, and I had taken a vase of the same flowers to place near her casket during the funeral, because dad always picked her roses from the yard.
I figured she would want to buy the arrangement. As she looked up at me, I looked into her eyes to speak..
Each eye was different colours. The left eye was brown, hazel, and grey. The right was brown and grey. She was small, older, dressed in layers even on the warm day.
So, when she started carrying on asking about the flowers, I decided to take a few minutes to focus on just her. When I saw her multi coloured eyes I KNEW I needed to give her full attention. (Even though other customers were around my table).
The connection between the flowers she was excited about being at her fathers funeral, and my parents funerals, really stirred my emotions and sympathy for her obvious interest in the flowers.
I knew not to push a sale and didn’t want to. It was way more meaningful than that. It wasn’t about her wanting to buy them. Just pointing them out and really drawing my attention to them being very special flowers!
She in fact did not buy the flowers; but kept asking what they were, exclaimed how she loved them. She touched them, then walked off in to the crowd.
The arrangement was small, in a small vase, nothing spectacular, not your usual big funeral arrangement at all.
The flowers? They were a small miniature rose…known as “The Fairy ”
After she left, I felt sort of shook up, mostly because of her insistence on pointing out these little-known roses that had such a deep meaning to me, and at her multi-coloured eyes. I also felt a sympathy for her at having also recently dealt with a funeral of a loved one.
It wasn’t until later after I kept thinking about her, her father’s funeral reference, her excitement at the flower but not wanting to buy them, that I decided there was something extra special about her visit. But I am still not exactly sure what.
Other than “The Fairy” rose is very, very special to me now even more so than it was before. Perhaps in the afterlife they do recognize what we do here and she was a messenger of sorts… (From my parents, hence the funeral reference?) to slow down. Life is short. Enjoy the roses.
Or maybe she was just a friendly lady excited she found a flower that brought up memories!