The Yellow Rose

In the most beautiful garden of our little town, among the most beautiful flowers, there was the yellow rose that was very special to me. The person who gave it to me was the most beloved elder of the town.

Every time I passed in front of the old lady’s house, I would inhale the beautiful scent of roses. One day, I wanted to help the old lady with a small problem. At first, she didn’t accept, but she couldn’t resist my insistence.

The next day, when the doorbell rang, there was a huge pot of yellow roses in front of me. The old lady of our town had sent this gift with her grandson to thank me.

That yellow rose has been in the most beautiful place of my garden ever since. Every time I look at it, I remember the love of the old lady and the warmth of our town.

My yellow rose is not just a beautiful flower, but also a symbol of friendship, love, and gratitude. Every day, I touch its leaves and imagine the smiling face of my old aunt. And I know that she also smiles at the beauty of my yellow rose and the happiness it spreads.

The story of my rose is actually the story of our town. In our soil, friendship, love, and gratitude blossom. And just like my yellow rose, these values are passed down from generation to generation.

Years later, my grandchildren will listen to the story of my rose. I will tell them about the love of an old lady and the warmth of our town. And I know that the story of my rose will also have a special place in their hearts.

Because my yellow rose is not just a flower, but also a part of the soul of our town. And this soul will live forever.