The Blue Rose

Once in a small village, enclosed by a forest, lived a simple band of people. In this village, all of the men would rise with the sun to walk two miles through the woods to the towns fields. These farmers would toil until the sun went down to provide food for their town.

Every night as the farmers journeyed home, a young lady would serve them water from a stream that ran through the town. Her beauty was incomparable to the other girls in the village. One of the younger farmers was able to catch her eye from time to time, for they were quite attracted to one another.

On evening, the young farmer worked up the courage to visit the lady at her house. When she opened the door he invited her to go for a walk in the woods. They walked a length and came to a gorgeous waterfall from which the lifeblood of the town flowed.

The young farmer took the lady in his arms and held her. After a while he gently lifted up her head with his hands. Slowly their lips met in an embrace and it seemed that the whole world stood still.

From behind the waterfall, two other youths, which the young farmer associated with, jumped out and dumped water on the young farmer and the young lady. Quite startled and enraged, the lady ran back towards the village. The young farmer chases after her, but she quickly locked the door to her house. He spent an hour begging and apologizing to her, but to no avail.

The next day at sunrise, the young farmer rose out of bed and went to toil in the fields as always. Once his return to the village, the lady would not rise her eyes to meet his as she gave him the water from the stream. The young farmer was quite distraught, for he loved her so.

Now, behind the young farmers house was a giant rose bush. This bush had been planted by his great-great grandmother and was the pride and joy of the family. That night, the young farmer cut off a beautiful red rose and to it tied a letter.

Simply written on this letter were the words "I love you. I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

Quietly, the young farmer crept through the darkened village and placed the rose on at the foot of the ladys door. He left without knocking so that the rose and the letter might be discovered in the mourning.

As he returned from the fields the next day, the young lady made no mention of the rose and would not meet her eyes to his. His heart cried out in even greater distress.

And so, that night and many nights to follow, the young farmer placed a rose from his familys bush with the same note attacked to it at the foot of her door.

This went on for many months, until one night. The young farmer placed the rose at the foot of her door. Instead of returning straight home, he made his way to the town green. There he cried and prayed to the gods of the village for what seem like hours. Then another farmer, the ladys brother, came up to him.

"When will you make an ends?" the brother asked.

"Tonight is the last one," said the young farmer "for there are no more roses on the bush that my family has treasured so much. It is dying." He began to weep even harder at the thought of losing the young lady and dishonoring the memory of his great-great grandmother.

After a long silence the brother stated, "She has kept every rose you have delivered. Almost all of the books in her library are filled with pressed flowers. The notes too are saved, in a golden box. But I do not think she will ever forgive you for what you have done to her."

"The only crime that I have ever committed against her was to love her," responded the young farmer. "I knew nothing of the other farmers who were behind the waterfall that night in the woods. I fully intended to make her my wife, but now it seems I will live my life alone. I will live it without even my family, for they hate me for destroying the bush."

The brother, convinced of the young farmers sincerity, left the youth to return home for it was getting chilly.

A short while later, a figure came near the young farmer, who was still crying and now quite cold from the weather. The figure laid a woolen blanket on the young farmers shoulders.

"Thank you brother farmer," answered the young farmer "I do not know how I can repay this debt."

Then he felt the arms of the figure wrap around him. They were not the arms of one who toiled all day in the fields, but rather the arms of a young woman. It was indeed the young lady, who for so many nights received roses from this young farmer. She held him in her arms and began to cry with him.

Just as their love bloomed that chilly night, so did a beautiful rose on the now revived bush. But this rose was a blue rose; blue from the tears of the two lovers that soaked into the ground.

To this day, the blue rose bush still stands in that village as a living testament to the undying love between the young farmer and the young lady.