Once upon a time, a young woman with hair long and beautiful, admired it with care, brushing before her mirror each day, wishing to pin a white rose in a certain way - hoping to receive it from a man she’d love, a gift of devotion, sent from above. She dreamed that one day this wish would come true, a young man at her door, with a rose fresh and new. Time passed her by, as it always will do. Her hair, once so lovely, thinned and turned gray. Still she kept dreaming, in her own quiet way, of that man with a rose, arriving one day. The doorbell rang out - her grandson ran in, embracing her tightly, a smile on his skin. He held a white rose, a single, pure bloom - “Granny, this rose is for you,” filled the room. She looked at her gray hair, brushed soft and neat, and tried pinning the rose, so precious, so sweet. Alas, the young rose and her gray hair that day could not seem to match, in the sun’s fading ray. The bloom was too young, her hair far too wise - no longer a match beneath autumn skies. She held the dream she’d cherished for so long, A single rose, where love had always belonged. Her grandson placed it gently in her hand, Fulfilling a dream only hearts understand. “Everything we dream has its merit when it comes on time!”
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