Red roses were her favorite; her name was also Rose. And every year her husband sent them, tied with pretty bows. The year he died the roses were delivered to her door. The card said, "Be my Valentine" like all the years before. She thought he ordered roses in advance before this day. Her loving husband did not know that he would pass away. He always liked to do things early, way before the time. Then if he got too busy, everything would work out fine. A year went by and it was hard to live without her mate, with loneliness and solitude that had become her fate. Then, the very hour, as on Valentines before, the doorbell rang and there were roses sitting by her door.
She brought the roses in and looked at them in shock. Then went to get the telephone and call the florist shop. The owner
answered and she asked him if he could explain why someone
would do this to her, causing so much pain?
"I know your husband died more than a year ago," The owner
said "I knew you'd call and you would want to know the flowers you received today he paid for in advance. Your husband always planned ahead and left nothing to chance."
"There is a standing order that I have on file down here, and he has paid well in advance. You'll get them every year." Inside the card she saw that he enclosed a note. Then as she stared in silence, this is what he wrote. "Please try to find some happiness while living out your days. I know it is not easy but I hope you'll find some ways. The roses will come every year and they will only stop when your door's not answered when the florist comes to knock. He will come five times that day, in case you've gone out, but after his last visit he will know without a doubt. He'll take the roses to the place where I've instructed him, and place the roses where we are....together once again.
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