Sandra felt as low as the heels of her Birkenstocks
as she pushed against a November gust and the florist
shop door. Her life had been easy, like a spring breeze.
Then in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a
minor automobile accident stole her ease. During this
Thanksgiving week she would have delivered a son.
She grieved over her loss. As if that weren't enough,
her husband's company threatened a transfer. Then
her sister, whose holiday visit she coveted, called saying
she could not come. What's worse, Sandra's friend
infuriated her by suggesting her grief was a Lord-given
path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with
others who suffer. "Has she lost a child? No, she has
no idea what I'm feeling," Sandra shuddered. Thanksgiving?
"Thankful for what?" she wondered. For a careless driver
whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended
her? For an airbag that saved her life, but took that of
her child?
"Good afternoon, can I help you?" The flower shop clerk's
approach startled her. "Sorry," said Jenny, "I just didn't
want you to think I was ignoring you." "I.....I need an
arrangement." "For Thanksgiving?" Sandra nodded. "Do
you want beautiful, but ordinary, or would you like to
challenge the day with a customer favorite I call the
'Thanksgiving Special'?" Jenny saw Sandra's curiosity
and continued, "I'm convinced that flowers tell stories,
that each arrangement conveys a particular feeling.
Are you looking for something that conveys gratitude
this Thanksgiving?"
"Not exactly!" Sandra blurted. "Sorry, but in the last five
months everything that could go wrong has." Sandra
regretted her outburst, but was surprised when Jenny
said, "I have the perfect arrangement for you." The door's
small bell suddenly rang. "Barbara! Hi!" Jenny said. She
politely excused herself from Sandra and walked toward
a small workroom. She quickly reappeared carrying a
massive arrangement of green bows and long-stemmed
thorny roses.
Only, the ends of the rose stems were neatly snipped --
no flowers. "Want this in a box?" Jenny asked. Sandra
watched for Barbara's response. Was this a joke? Who
would want rose stems and no flowers! She waited for
laughter, for someone to notice the absence of flowers
a top the thorny stems, but neither woman did. "Yes, please.
It's exquisite!," said Barbara. "You'd think after three years
of getting the Special, I'd not be so moved by its significance,
but it's happening again. My family will love this one. Thanks."
Sandra stared. "Why so normal a conversation about so
strange an arrangement?" she wondered. "Uh," said Sandra,
pointing. "That lady just left with..uh...." "Yes?" "Well, she
had no flowers!" "Off? Yep. That's the Special. I call it the
'Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet'." "But, why do people pay for
that?" In spite of herself, she chuckled. "Do you really want
to know?" "I couldn't leave this shop without knowing. I'd think
about nothing else!"
"That might be good," said Jenny. "Well," she continued,
"Barbara came into the shop three years ago feeling very
much like you feel today. She thought she had very little
to be thankful for. She had lost her father to cancer, the
family business was failing, her son was into drugs and
she faced major surgery." "Ouch!" said Sandra. "That
same year I lost my husband. I assumed complete responsibility
for the shop and for the first time, spent the holidays alone. I
had no children, no husband, no family nearby and too great
a debt to allow any travel." "What did you do?" "I learned to
be thankful for thorns." Sandra's eyebrows lifted. "Thorns?"
"I'm a Christian, Sandra. I've always thanked Lord for good
things in life and I never thought to ask Him why good things
happened to me. But when bad stuff hit, did I ever ask! It
took time to learn that dark times are important. I always
enjoyed the flowers of life, but it took thorns to show me the
beauty of Lord's comfort. You know, the Bible says that Lord
comforts us when we're afflicted and from His consolation
we learn to comfort others." Sandra gasped. "A friend read
that passage to me and I was furious! I guess the truth is, I
don't want comfort. I've lost a baby and I'm angry with Lord."
She started to ask Jenny to "go on" when the door's bell
diverted their attention. "Hey, Phil!" shouted Jenny as a
balding, rotund man entered the shop. She softly touched
Sandra's arm and moved to him. He tucked her under his
side for warm hug. "I'm here for twelve thorny long-stemmed
stems!" Phil laughed heartily. I figured as much," said Jenny.
"I've got them ready."She lifted a tissue-wrapped arrangement
from the refrigerated cabinet. Beautiful," said Phil. "My wife will
love them."Sandra could not resist asking, "These are for your
wife?" Phil saw that Sandra's curiosity matched his when he
first heard of a Thorn Bouquet. "Do you mind me asking,
'Why thorns'?"
"No, in fact, I"m glad you asked," he said. "Four years ago my
wife and I nearly divorced. After forty years we were in a real
mess, but we slugged through, problem by rotten problem.
We rescued our marriage--our love really. Last year at
Thanksgiving I stopped in here for flowers. I must have
mentioned surviving a tough process because Jenny told
me that for a long time she kept a vase of rose stems--STEMS--
as a reminder of what she learned from 'thorny' times. That
was good enough for me. I took home stems. My wife and I
decided to label each one for a specific thorny situation and
give thanks for what the problem taught us. I'm pretty sure this
stem review is becoming a tradition."Phil paid Jenny, thanked
her again and as he left, said to Sandra, "I highly recommend
the Special!"
"I don't know if I can be thankful for thorns in my life," Sandra
said to Jenny."Well, my experience says that thorns make
roses more precious. We treasure Lord's providential care
more during trouble than at any other time. Remember, Sandra,
Jesus wore a crown of thorns so that we might know His love.
Do not resent thorns."
Tears rolled down Sandra's cheeks. For the first time since
the accident, she loosened her grip on resentment. "I'll take
twelve long-stemmed thorns, please." "I hoped you would,"
Jenny said. "I'll have them ready in a minute. Then, every
time you see them, remember to appreciate both good and
hard times. We grow through both."
"Thank you. What do I owe you?" "Nothing. Nothing, but
a pledge to work toward healing your heart. The first year's
arrangement is always on me." Jenny handed a card to
Sandra. "I'll attach a card like this to your arrangement, but
maybe you'd like to read it first. Go ahead, read it." The
card read: "My Lord, I have never thanked Thee for my
thorn! I have thanked Thee a thousand times for my roses,
but never once for my thorns. Teach me the glory of the
cross I bear; teach me the value of thorns. Show me that
I have climbed to Thee by the path of pain. Show me that
my tears have made my rainbow."