The Rose
I was in a bus, on my way to a dinner party in Boston, back in 1993 or 1994. I was holding a bouquet of roses for the lady hosting the party.
I noticed a young woman in the bus who seemed very sad, on the verge of tears.
I waited for my stop and then just before leaving the bus, I gave her one of the roses.
Once outside, I could see her, looking at the rose in her hand smiling from ear to ear.
It made my day. I hoped it lightened hers.
Emmanuel Tchividjian