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My grandfather's rose bush

     Grandfather's rose bushes


My grandfather loved his roses. He would care for them and ensure they survived the Winter. He was a story-teller and he loved his story of the roses.


He told me often. My Great grandmother was a cook in the castle of the king. She had a bastard  son  of the king of England and she and the baby boy was send to New York city in 1880. She was pissed off and she cut off pieces of the King's rose bushes.

She met a kind man in New York and they went to Detroit. She planted the Rose pieces in the Michigan soil  and she loved them till she die. Been passed on to all the family. He would smile and he would tell me. We were born of kings and lived as paupers. 

I cut a piece off his bush in the year 2000. The King roses had spread to front and back yard. I love my roses and when they bloom. I remember my Grandfather.

Now I am the Grandfather and I tell my children and grandchildren. See the roses, once roses of the King.  They loved the story of being the bastard children of the king and they cut a piece off and replant.

I hope my children and my grandchildren remember me when the roses bloom.

                Johnnie

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 3/29/2019 9:38:00 AM
- A lovely story that has to be told, John ... a pleasure to read :) - hugs // Anne-Lise :)
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Date: 3/14/2019 10:22:00 AM
Great story, John! Made me smile Thanks
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John Castellenas
Date: 3/14/2019 3:54:00 PM
Thank you Susan. Good to be a story teller.
Date: 6/30/2018 2:33:00 PM
I love this. A wonderful story beautifully told. :)
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John Castellenas
Date: 6/30/2018 4:07:00 PM
Thank you Susan. I appreciate the comment.
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John Castellenas
Date: 6/30/2018 4:07:00 PM
Thank you Susan. I appreciate the comment.