The Red Rose and Mrs Barr

You know, its funny how certain sights or smells, even textures will bring back a memory of a place or a person. For me, roses remind me of a neighbor from my childhood...Mrs Barr. When I read Sue's post and saw the rose garden photos, it was Mrs Barr that flooded my mind.

I spent a lot of time on Mrs Barr's front yard. I played under a large tree that sat on her side yard, between our house and hers. I used to stop over and visit with her when she was sitting on her front porch. I was probably a bit of a pest, but secretly I think she enjoyed my visits. She would invite me on the porch for a cookie or a cool drink. We would chat and pass the time until I was called home.
She had roses growing in her flower beds. I used to watch her tend to them. One day, she cut a rose for me. A rose just for me...all mine! My Mom is allergic to roses so I was allowed to keep it in my room. It sat on my vanity dresser, in front of the mirror. I would stand there, smelling its sweetness, brushing its petals against my nose, cheek and lips. At 5 years old, it was the most precious gift I had ever been given. I loved that rose and I loved Mrs Barr, my elderly neighbor lady.
Mrs Barr passed away that autumn or was it winter. It was cold that early, early morning. I can still remember it. Mom had put us into the car to take us to the babysitters. It was still dark out, but something was strange. Mrs Barr's front porch light was on. I found out later that she had passed away. My little heart was broken. To this day, when I see a full red rose, smell its sweet fragrance, or touch its soft petals against my face....I think of her, Mrs Barr...my friend.