There once was a little thistle growing in the midst of a beautiful rose garden. The little thistle dreamed of the day when it would be picked and cherished as the unique and special blossom that it knew it was. But time and time again, the little thistle, which was hidden below the longer, more elegant stems of the rose bushes, was overlooked as the lovely roses were plucked from the garden.

The thistle didn’t understand why only the roses seemed to be of value to those who came to the garden to pick flowers. Though the roses wore tints of many beautiful colors, the thistle knew that it’s own blue-violet hue was beautiful too. Could it be that the rose’s petals were soft as velvet while the thistle’s petals were so long and thin that their texture could not be easily discerned? The thistle considered that it might be the spiny thorns that edged its leaves that lessened its value, but the rose had thorns as well. All through the rainy spring, the thistle pondered its woeful situation while trying desperately to become more like the roses, wishing with all its heart that it too might one day be loved and cherished as a beautiful flower.

One day, near the end of spring, the wind began to blow, pushing the longer-stemmed roses to and fro while the little thistle huddled nearer to the ground. Soon the rain came as well, accompanied by booming thunder and bright flashes of lightning. Out of the midst of the storm the thistle became aware of a voice, speaking softly and lovingly from the heavens, “Fear not, my little blossom, one day someone special will visit the garden and look beyond the roses that so easily catch the eye. At that time, you will realize that I’ve been saving you for one who is as unique and special as you.”

The little thistle found great comfort in those words and waited patiently for the day the loving voice from the heavens promised…