Like the Story of the Flower.
Everyone looks and thinks of the beauty, and, oh how lovely it is. How much I would enjoy to pluck this flower and carry it home to adorn my home in the vase of water upon the table top. For those who pluck the flower of the garden, they know that they've just killed that flower. It no longer has a life source, and after a while, the scent will fade and the bright petals will fall off, as the long stem crumbles in death. He who truly loves the flower respects its life, and would never kill it by plucking it away from the soil rich home of its garden from where by its source of light and life it flourishes. He allows the flower to grow, nurtures it, and observes in adoration its beauty from afar. Perhaps, in time, he returns to the garden and asks permission of its keeper to uproot the flower that he might be able to keep it with him in a garden of his own. He would then take the roots up above the soil, for he values the whole plant, that the flower may live, and continue to bloom gracefully in an abundance. He loved me so much that he let me be free from death. Even in my submission to him, he left my floral garden untouched. Thus, he has given me the gift of life through his perfect love.
