Once upon a time there lived a gentle carpenter named Lawrence and his daughter Rose. They lived in a tiny little house in a tiny little village named Roslyn. In our modern times Roslyn would be considered a one stop light sort of place. Blink and you might miss it.
Lawrence supported himself and Rose by making furniture. It kept him very busy so Rose ended up spending a lot of time alone. She didn’t have any friends. The kids at school were very cruel to her. You see Rose was different. She had red hair, freckles and she was very mature for her age.
One day after yet another day of being tormented at school, Rose decided to go for a walk in the woods on the outskirts of town. She had never done this before. She was crying. Shortly after entering the woods she heard a whisper calling to her,”Rose why are you crying?” “They hate me I just want to escape forever and ever!” “Sleep” the forest whispered. Little did Rose know she was in an enchanted forest. Rose suddenly felt very sleepy and curled up in the grass. Soon she faded away and all that remained were seeds. The seeds burrowed into the soil and all was still.
The shadows of the ending day began to fall. Lawrence put the finishing touches on the chair he had been working on and headed into the house, “Rose?!” He called out but there was no answer. He started to get worried and decided to go looking for her. He went by the school and all the other places he could think she had gone. He couldn’t find her. Off in the distance he saw the woods, “I wonder if she went in there?” He felt his heart sink. If only he paid more attention to her!
Lawrence went home and grabbed his flashlight and headed back to the woods. It didn’t take long before he got to the clearing where Rose had fallen asleep…..but she wasn’t there! All Lawrence found was an outline of his daughters sleeping form. He touched the soil. It was still warm. He called out to her but only heard birds settling down to sleep. He began to weep. His tears fell to the space where she had been and then something miraculous happened….a plant with a deep red flower began to rise up to him. He had never seen such a flower. His tears flowed over the flower as it seemed to respond to his voice. It started to sink in that his Rose was gone. “I will call you Rose,” the bereaved father cried….and that is how the Rose came to be. The End.
To be 