As I sat on the rickety chair with a bin at my feet, I de-thorned and de-leafed some beautiful roses. Roses that were so well wrapped in newspapers I had no idea such ferocity beheld them. Of course, being the ignorant person I might sometimes be, I expected neat clean-shaven stalks seen in florists, forgetting that something of such beauty rarely exists defenseless. Thus I got pricked. Then I felt guilty. I felt guilty because it felt like I was doing something I wasn't supposed to (Even if it were for a good cause like a present for Jo's birthday). I felt guilty because those thorns were created in a bid to protect them from predators (me) and I effortlessly took each stalk and stripped it bare. I felt guilty because I definitely had the upper hand in this. I felt like Hitler, Pol Pot, Tutsis and Hutus combined. Except I feel guilty.
Now a vase of orange roses stand in the middle of my table. Thorns, leaves and dignity intact.
Will I be redeemed?
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