It was quite a few years ago when one of our online gaming buddies asked my mother a simple but brashly inappropriate question: "Which of your daughters do you think is more beautiful?" Rather than point out the obvious, my mother took a moment to think while I was reprimanding him. She then told him, in her gentlest voice, that both her daughters held the beauty of roses.
"[My younger daughter] has dark auburn curls with streaks of burgundy, pale green eyes, deep red lips and a blush to match. She is my Red rose. [My eldest daughter] has blonde hair with streaks in every shade of gold, deep ocean-blue eyes, and a peaches-and-cream complexion. She is my Yellow rose. I could not choose between my two favorite flowers, for each of them possesses a unique and captivating beauty."
It is a story that nearly brought a 16-year-old boy to tears, and has stayed near to the hearts of both me, Yellow, and my little sister, Red. Heaven blessed us with a poet for a mother, and, ironically, a 6'4" red-headed brother in the middle.
These are our stories.
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