This was the post where I shared the story about the yellow roses and my mother. Who knows what it means. I've given so much thought to it over the years and really had just began to let it go when this happened. Over the weekend Mr. Golfer was mowing and called out to me to come to the back yard. (This rose bush was the one I wrote about here. A wonderful story I have shared many times. ) There on this bush was a yellow rose! No way! I stood there with my mouth open, no words coming. How could this be?
I really like following your blog Wanda though I don't think I've commented before. Do you like St Therese of Lisieux? Roses make me think of her :-)
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