-a thousand words-

Alone walking in the rose garden I try to dry my tears for the town that once lay here. The garden planted to memorialize the people who lost their lives and did nothing to be sent to death. I look out on the land to the rolling fields below, where once stood houses and shops with a church in the middle. The faces of the children are locked in my mind, so innocent and unknowing that their fate was not to survive. Like a rose so young and spry surrounded by the thorns of the Third Reich. The images repeat in mind, and the sacrifice of thousands is engrained in it forever. Such beauty was it to walk amongst the roses, and be thankful for all I’ve had to encounter, for there is worse in some lifetimes that impact a nation and humble you forever. Gazing at the sea of colors from the rose all around, the wind would blow, and the fragrance that hit my nose was empowering. Watching a woman stop to actually smell them, I saw the beauty in such a painful place. Don’t dwell in the sorrow, remember their names, and carry on the legacy. If you stop to smell the roses, you realize you have a gift to live, like so many didn’t get to.

“Soft on the sunset sky
Bright daylight closes,
Leaving, when light doth die,
Pale hues that mingling lie—
Ashes of roses.
When love’s warm sun is set,
Love’s brightness closes;
Eyes with hot tears are wet,
In hearts there linger yet
Ashes of roses.”

-Elaine

–