: THANKSGIVING ROSES

Sandra felt as low as the heels of her Birkenstocks when she
pulled open the florist shop door, against a November gust of wind. Her life
had been as sweet as a spring breeze and then in the fourth month of her
second pregnancy, a "minor" automobile accident stole her joy. This was
Thanksgiving week and the time she should have delivered their
infant son. She grieved over their loss.

Troubles had multiplied. Her husband's company "threatened" to
transfer his job to a new location. Her sister had called to say that she
could not come for her long awaited holiday visit.

THEN! Sandra's friend suggested that Sandra's grief was a
God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with others who
suffer.

"She has no idea what I'm feeling," thought Sandra with a
shudder. "Thanksgiving? Thankful for what?" she wondered. "For a careless
driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her? For an
airbag that saved her life, but took her child's?"

"Good afternoon, can I help you?" Sandra was startled by the
approach of  the shop clerk.

"I....I need an arrangement," stammered Sandra.

"For Thanksgiving? Do you want the beautiful but ordinary, or
would   you like to challenge the day with a customer favorite I call the
'Thanksgiving Special'? I'm convinced that flowers tell stories," she continued.

"Are you looking for something that conveys 'gratitude' this
Thanksgiving?"

"Not exactly!" Sandra blurted out. "In the last five months,
everything that could go wrong has gone wrong."

Sandra regretted her outburst, and was surprised when the clerk
said, "I have the perfect arrangement for you."

Then the bell on the door rang, and the clerk greeted the new
customer, "Hi, Barbara...let me get your order." She excused herself and
walked back to a small workroom, then quickly reappeared, carrying an
arrangement of greenery, bows, and what appeared to be long-stemmed thorny roses.

Except the ends of the rose stems were neatly snipped: there were no
flowers.

"Do you want these in a box?" asked the clerk.

Sandra watched for the customer's response. Was this a joke? Who
would want rose stems with no flowers?

She waited for laughter, but neither woman laughed. "Yes,
please," Barbara replied with an appreciative smile. "You'd think after three years
of getting the special, I wouldn't be so moved by its significance,

but I can feel it right here, all over again." She said, as she gently apped her chest.

Sandra stammered, "Ahh, that lady just left with, uh....she left with no flowers!"

"That's right, said the clerk. "I cut off the flowers. That's the 'Special'. I call it the Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet."

"Oh, come on! You can't tell me someone is willing to pay for that!" exclaimed Sandra.

"Barbara came into the shop three years ago, feeling much as you
do, today," explained the clerk. "She thought she had very little to
be thankful for. She had just lost her father to cancer; the family
business was failing; her son had gotten into drugs; and she was facing
major surgery."

"That same year I had lost my husband," continued the clerk. "For
the first time in my life, I had to spend the holidays alone. I had no
children, no husband, no family nearby, and too much debt to allow
any travel."

"So what did you do?" asked Sandra.

"I learned to be thankful for thorns," answered the clerk
quietly. "I've always thanked God for the good things in my life and I
NEVER questioned Him why those GOOD things happened to me, but when the
bad stuff hit, I cried out, "WHY? WHY Me?!" It took time for me to learn
that the dark times are important to our faith! I have always enjoyed the
'flowers' of my life but it took the thorns to show me the
beauty of God's comfort! You know, the Bible says that God comforts us when we're
afflicted, and from His consolation we learn to comfort others."

Sandra sucked in her breath, as she thought about the thought
that her friend had tried to tell her. "I guess the truth is, I don't want
comfort. I've lost a baby and I'm angry with God."

Just then someone else walked in the shop. "Hey, Phil!" the
clerk greeted the balding, rotund man. "My wife sent me in to get our usual
Thanksgiving arrangement...twelve thorny, long-stemmed stems!" laughed Phil as
the clerk handed him a tissue wrapped arrangement from the refrigerator.

"Those are for your wife?" asked Sandra incredulously.

"Do you mind telling me why she wants a bouquet that looks like that?"

"No...I'm glad you asked," Phil replied. "Four years ago, my wife and I nearly divorced. After forty years, we were in a real mess, but with the Lord's grace and guidance, we trudged through problem after problem. The Lord rescued our marriage. Jenny, here (the clerk) told me she kept a vase of rose stems to remind her of what she had learned from "thorny" times.

That was good enough for me. I took home some of those stems. My
wife and I decided to label each one for a specific "problem" and give
thanks for what that problem taught us. As Phil paid the clerk, he said to
Sandra, "I highly recommend the Special!"

"I don't know if I can be thankful for the thorns in my life."
Sandra said to the clerk. "It's all too...fresh."

"Well," the clerk replied carefully, "my experience has shown me
that the thorns make the roses more precious. We treasure God's
providential care more during trouble than at any other time. Remember, it was a
crown of  thorns that Jesus wore so we might know His love. Don't resent
the thorns."

Tears rolled down Sandra's cheeks. For the first time since the
accident, she loosened her grip on her resentment. "I'll take those twelve
long-stemmed thorns, please," she managed to choke out.

"I hoped you would," said the clerk gently. "I'll have them ready in a minute."

"Thank you. What do I owe you?"

"Nothing. Nothing but a promise to allow God to heal your heart. The first year's arrangement is always on me." The clerk smiled and handed a card to Sandra. "I'll attach this card to your arrangement, but maybe you would like to read it first."

It read:
My God, I have never thanked You for my thorns. I have thanked
You a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my thorns. Teach
me the glory of the cross I bear; teach me the value of my thorns. Show
me that I have climbed closer to You along the path of pain. Show me that, through my tears, the colors of Your rainbow look much more brilliant."

Praise Him for the roses, thank Him for the thorns