2077045
9781400061099
CHAPTER 1 It Takes a Village I am not sure of the exact beginnings-when and where I became enthralled with fragrance and flowers. Maybe I smelled the bouquets my mother received when I was born. Perhaps it was her lotion or the shampoo she used in her hair. But the earliest memory I have of flowers making a dramatic impression on my spirit is when I was five years old and participating in my aunt Judith's wedding. That's when I fell in love with the rose-one of the most beautiful flowers God ever created. My memories of that day are a little sketchy; however, my father claims to remember everything. To hear him tell the story, my love of that wonderful flower nearly caused me to upstage Aunt Judith at her own wedding. As Judith's favorite-and only-niece, I was chosen to be her flower girl. I didn't understand what that entailed; I had never been in a wedding before. But anything that involved flowers sounded like fun to me. On the morning of the ceremony, Grandma's house was the busiest I had ever seen it. There were people everywhere. I can't tell you how excited I was to see everybody dressed up in their finest clothing. I walked around the house wide-eyed, trying to take everything in, wearing a special dress my great-aunt Ismay had sewn for me. It was yellow and white and made of a fluffy fabric called chiffon. Every time I tried to look down at my white shoes, the dress seemed to float over and hide them. I loved my new dress but also felt awkward, because of its length-my other dresses hit me at my knees-and also because I could hear my grandmother's words: "Be careful not to get anything on your dress!" Aunt Judith was my father's younger sister. Even on a normal day she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen, but on this day she had been transformed. Wearing the wedding dress Aunt Ismay had made her, I thought she looked like a princess. Aunt Ismay pulled at and patted her, trying to get every last detail in place. I couldn't imagine what else needed to be done. Aunt Judith looked perfect. Nothing could be more beautiful, I thought-that is, until I was handed a white wicker basket full of flowers that made time stop and my heart stand still. After the basket was placed in my hands, I could barely hear the florist's instructions: "As you walk down the aisle, toss the petals onto the floor." All I could do was admire the brilliant shades of red and hot pink. They didn't come from carnations and mums, which Daddy often bought me. These petals belonged to roses! I was already very familiar with roses. Even at that age I was attracted to their incredibly sweet scent. Nana, my maternal grandmother, grew them in her yard. I was always sticking my nose into their bright peach blooms. Adults were constantly warning me to watch out for bumblebees-although for some reason they seemed not to get uptight when I smelled the blossoms Nana set in a vase on the kitchen table. But even though I loved the roses at Nana's house, I had never envisioned them as individual petals before. They were so delicate and divine. I cradled them like a secret treasure. I wanted to do a good job and make Judith proud. But I started to feel a conflict. I can't throw all of these on the floor, I thought. Something this precious shouldn't be wasted. I have to do something to save them. As the music started playing and people motioned me to begin walking, I fashioned my own solution to the confusion I was feeling. I walked down the aisle taking slow and deliberate steps, just as I had been instructed to do. But rather than sprinkling handfuls of blooms across the white runner, I dropped a single petal with every step I took. When I arrived at the altar, there was a narrow line of brilliant color extending the length of the center aisle. It looked like Hansel and Gretel had deposited a trail of bright red bread crumbs. The entirePrice, Lisa is the author of 'Success Never Smelled So Sweet How I Followed My Nose and Found My Passion', published 2004 under ISBN 9781400061099 and ISBN 1400061091.
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