Roses on the hillsides growing wild. Sweet and spicy in the summer sun. We all waited patiently for the tiny pink buds to appear every year. Finally full blown blossoms covered the bushes. It never failed. It was Mama's birthday the twelfth of June. They always made their debut on that, her special day. I think the Angels had something to do with the timing.|
Their delicate aroma wafted through open windows, coaxing us awake. We ran to the slopes and filled our baskets with those beautiful roses. Mama always knew what her gift would be. She smiled sweetly. Her beautiful lapis eyes glistening as she hugged each of us. We could hear her humming in the kitchen as she placed the roses into her favorite vase. Oh how lovely they looked in that beautiful white hob-nail vase that had belonged to her grandmother. She called it her birthday vase, because it only came out of it's place of honor in the china cabinet to display those lovely June roses...
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