Roses and clay

A new garden was built in the park, infused with fertile soil and planted with roses.

On the day he first moved in, Rose woke up and was welcomed by his new neighbor, Dirt.

The dirt said to Rose, "Welcome to the park, I hope you like your new home."

Rose looked around and realized that this place was nothing like the plantation he had been in before. For example, there was no roof made of glass and no automatic sprinklers that provided nutrients, as if he had been abandoned.

Rose asked worriedly, "How am I going to survive? What if it rains, what if bugs come and bite me?"

Dirt reassured, "No worries, there is nothing to fear from the rain, and the gardeners in the park will take care of you carefully."

"After hearing you say that, I feel better, thank you, you are so kind." The rose expressed her thanks for the clay.

Dirt said, "It's nothing. I actually just moved here too, and we are all the same, so we have to help each other."

Rose asked curiously, "Don't you get scared coming to a place that is completely new to you?"

"I'm used to going from one place to another." The clay shrugged and continued, "I used to be neighbors with all kinds of vegetables and a friend to many flowers."

Suddenly ashamed of her earlier fuss, Rose was at the same time intrigued by Dirt's experiences, and as a listener, she was happy to listen to Dirt's stories about him.

As time went on, under the care of the gardeners, the roses were in excellent condition, having grown their flower bones and setting a date for flowering, which everyone was looking forward to with great anticipation.

The roses were also busy with their first show very much in mind and had been preparing for it.

At one point Clay suddenly asked, "Roses, what do you plan to do in the future?"

"Showing the most beautiful side of myself to others, of course." Roses couldn't understand why Mud was asking such a stupid question.

"No, I'm talking about what comes after this." Seeing that Rosebud hadn't understood, Clay continued, "That is, what do you want to do before you end your life as a flower?"

The rose was at a loss; she had been a "flower" since she was born, and she didn't know what else to do besides being a flower, so she replied, "I don't know, I've never thought about it."

Clay suggested, "I know from some friends that many flowers choose to become perfume, what do you think?"

"Wouldn't that be something to be crushed around, it would hurt too much."

"What about as an ingredient for snacks or drinks?"

"Flowers are not the same as plants that are born to be eaten, don't mix them up."

"Or as a specimen?"

"That's just a corpse, right?" Rose got a little bored by the question and asked back, "Don't just talk about me, do you?"

The clay sighed and said, "The clay can always be just clay, but the rose can't always be a rose."

Soon it was time for the roses to bloom, and people came on the news just so they could admire this delicate and cold aristocrat of flowers. As soon as the last wave of visitors left, the next wave of guests arrived, and the rose was so busy that it didn't even have time to drink, and was always the focus of the conversation and the subject of the camera.

While enjoying the star-like treatment, the roses thought: "It's true that the soil still thinks too much, and it's enough for the flowers to just show their beauty to others.

However, the frenzy of flower viewing soon faded, and the flowerbeds returned to their familiar cold and quiet state when the roses realized that they seemed to have "grown old" and were still able to attract others.

One day, a naughty child came to the flower bed and picked the roses off.

The rose thought to himself, "Isn't it nice to be admired by only one person?

At that moment, from a distance came the mother's shout, the child did not care to throw the rose in his hands to the side, and ran towards his mother.