Is it a pity or a forbidden love ?
She was saved by a young man in his late 20s when she was at her most desperated moment. At first he saved her because she was reminded of his little sister.
She's a Hunted and he's a Wanted.
Is there even a slight...
"In the garden, a lily stands tall, But beware, for people can be cruel overall. Though its petals are soft and bright, Some might not treat it right.
So remember, my dear, to be kind and true, For what's on the outside isn't all that's true. Even a flower can hide its pain, In a world where kindness must always reign.
Sweetheart, be a rose, not a lily, you see, Roses are strong, like you and me. Lilies are pretty, but they can't stand strong, But roses can handle whatever comes along.
Lilies are fragile, they wilt and they fall, But roses, my dear, they stand proud and tall. So remember, my love, as you go through life's dance, Be a rose, my dear, and give life a chance."
As the evening sun dipped low, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, they wandered through the garden, hand in hand.
"Mama, why did you say I should be a rose, not a lily?" The child's voice was soft, filled with curiosity.
The mother smiled down at her, her eyes warm. "Well, my little Mai (pronouncedlikeMay), roses are like strong protectors in the garden. They can withstand storms and stay standing tall. I want you to be strong like a rose."
"But what's wrong with being a lily?" The child's fingers traced the petals of a nearby lily, her brow furrowed.
"Nothing at all, my dear," the mother reassured her. "Lilies are lovely too, but they can be delicate. Sometimes, people might not handle them gently."
"Why are people sometimes unkind, Mama?" The child's voice held a hint of sadness.
The mother sighed softly. "Well, darling, people have their own worries and troubles. Sometimes, they forget to be kind or they feel hurt themselves."
In the quiet of the evening, they walked on, the mother's hand giving the child's a gentle squeeze.
"Mama, if I were a flower, what would I be?" The child's eyes sparkled with curiosity.
The mother's heart swelled with love. "You, my dear, would be the most special flower of all. A flower that spreads happiness and love wherever it goes."
The rain fell hard in the evening at the graveyard. A young girl with brown hair, wearing black clothes, stood by her mother's grave. She held a bunch of lilies in her hands, her hair getting wet as she didn't have an umbrella.
"I know you liked lilies, Mom," she said softly, placing the flowers on the grave. "But you always said you wanted me to be a rose, strong and brave."
She sat quietly, feeling the rain on her face, thinking about her mom's words. "I wish you had told me how to be a rose," she whispered. "I miss you every day."
With a deep breath, she stood up, wiping away her tears. "I'll try my best to be strong, Mom," she promised. "Just like you wanted."
Leaving the grave behind, she walked away into the rain, feeling both sadness and determination in her heart.
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