How The Rose Got Its Name

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Rosalinda. Rosalinda was a spoiled little girl. Whenever she asked daddy for something that she liked she would get it.

Rosalinda had everything and when she went to school all the other kids hated her. She was beautiful with her long brunette hair tied into a side ponytail with a red ribbon.

Rosalinda had everything she ever wanted. She had horses and dogs. She had rubies and diamonds. The only thing she didn't have was a flower with her name.

Lily was Rosalinda's schoolmate. Lily had long blond curly hair and green eyes. One day it was show and tell in Rosalinda's class. It was Lily's turn to show her object. That day Lily brought a Lily flower she picked. The yellow of the petals, the sweet aroma in the air and they way Lily's soft low voice talked about her flower made Rosalinda go crazy. This was the first thing Rosalinda was ever jealous about. Her face was bright with envy and she knew what the next thing was that she wanted from her dad.

After school Rosalinda came running home as fast as she could. While panting, Rosalinda asked her father for a flower.

"Of course!" her father said. "Go pick one from your garden."

"NO!" She replied. "I want a flower named after me like Lily," she said in a loud scream.

"No, Rosalinda I cannot get you a flower then. Lily is the name of a flower because Lily is the name of a goddess. Your name is one of a kind." Her father explained.

Rosalinda cried and cried and cried and cried. It took 3 hours, but her father finally gave in.

"Fine Rosalinda. In two suns I will be back with your flower." he replied.

Two suns passed and Rosalinda finally saw her flower. It was red and smelled so much different than Lily's did. There was only one flower still unnamed in the entire world and that was because it was the flower that represented both love and death. Rosalinda's father told her to be careful holding it. She could get hurt.

"This is a rose, for Rosalinda. This, Rosalinda, is your flower!" her father said. Rosalinda's face lit up like the sun. She grabbed it so quickly that she did not realize that the flower had thorns. She pricked herself, threw the rose and never asked for another thing again.

That is how the rose got its name. Rosalinda never touched her flower again due to the thorns. The rose proves that we must always look beyond outward beauty and be careful of the "thorns."