Childhood love, natural artist from young, looks can be deceiving

I can remember as a little girl, my mother would receive so many gifts from my stepfather. Mainly roses, i can smell the babysbreath oh so fresh in the air. I would nibble on those babysbreath, consuming the tops. The white small bulbs, resembling cotton.

I can vividly recall the vibrant appearance of the rose petals, bright red, so velvety so perfectly formed. Gods beautiful creation. What a masterpiece, a work of art, his universe is.he must be an artist i always would say to myself. The universe,his canvas.

The world's most famous artist, yet never really gets much credit. Better than Picasso, Da Vinci, Vincent Van Gogh, because his work, God's work is real. It isn't duplications, replicas or mimics. He's the originator. Artists, even myself mimic and mirror what we see in the world, whereas God, he was the original trendsetter.

The roses my mom received, I would pick apart as they withered away. After everyone had admired their absolute, undeniable beauty and grace. And i would boil the petals. I was amazed that the colors would run off almost like dye into the bowl of water. Cause you see even in death these roses were capable of being beautiful.

The roses would become white, the color sucked out of them. Its like god had chosen a white mold and painted it for his roses. It was amazing. Again everything we do is an attempt to mimic god. We as humans have a natural admiration for him.


I although young being so inquisitive would take the petals and boil them in the microwave or on the stove. I figured that tea bags looked like shredded, dried flowers so roses would make for a good calming tea. They'd resemble the picture below.

But I soon came to the realization that all that glitters isn't really gold. And all that seems sweet actually could be bittersweet. Just as these flowers were. They were so very beautiful that I could not believe that they tasted so bad. After all, they had smelled nice, looked nice and should've tasted nice too. I felt confused and betrayed. These flowers are deceiving I thought.

But now, as I am older and I look back I realize that those roses symbolize many other encounters in my life. Mainly with people I held dear to me, loved like family, perhaps even more than my own self. I lived for them, pleasing them helped me live. But they were masters of deception. It was all a facade, similar to these flowers. Moral of the story is that, looks can be deceiving, people may not be who they appear to be. Story of my life. The people who were roses at first, beautiful & promising on the surface. Beneath that were bitter total opposites. 

-AGC