Colors of Purpose

A long, long time ago I was eighteen years old. Wow! That was 30 years ago. But my aging body is not the point of this post. I had graduated high school the year before and just started dating a girl who was still trapped in there.

On Valentine's Day, I dropped my brothers off at school and noticed that one of the school clubs was selling roses to be delivered to people in classes that day. I hopped out of my car and looked over their choices. They had several kinds of flowers, but it was mostly roses. After all, it was Valentine's Day.

I figured my new girl would be thrilled to get some unexpected flowers in the middle of her school day.  After a quick scan, I immediately knew which one I wanted. There was a beautiful blue rose that was almost exactly her favorite color. Plus, I didn't think I had ever seen a blue rose before. It was unique and it was perfect.

I paid my money and was told it would be delivered to her at some point before lunch period.

I left the school pretty proud of myself and looked forward to seeing her later.

I dropped by her house after work that night and she greeted me at the door with the rose in her hand. She thanked me for the unexpected gift and placed it back in the house as we left to take a walk.

As we walked hand in hand enjoying the crisp February air, she suddenly stopped and turned to me, "What does blue mean?"

I was confused by this abrupt question. "Being blue? You mean 'being sad'?"

She lowered her eyes to the ground. "What are you sad about?"

"I'm not sad. It's actually been a really good week for me."

She brought her eyes up back to mine and asked, "So, that wasn't a sad rose?"

"Oh," the context of her question finally hit me as my face broke into a smile. "No. That wasn't a sad rose. Do roses get sad?"

I turned so we could start walking again, but she held me in place. "Then what does blue mean?"

I had no idea what was being asked and she could see the confusion on my face, so she continued, "A yellow rose is what you send to a friend. Peach roses show gratitude and are typically used as a thank you for something. Orange is usually for celebration and a red rose is obviously for love."

I was beginning to realize this was going somewhere but still didn't know where. "Wow. I didn't know all that. What does blue mean?"

She paused and looked hard into my eyes. "I don't know. Blue roses don't occur in nature. They have to be dyed that color. You sent it to me. So, what does blue mean?"

"I didn't know the color has all this extra meaning."

She was visibly disgusted by this answer and quickly released my hand. "You have never told me you loved me and there were red roses right there. Why did you choose a blue one?" I could see the tears beginning to build in her eyes.

I wasn't going to address the 'I love you' part. We had been dating less than a month, but I thought I could tackle the rose debacle. "I picked that flower because you love blue. It is your favorite color and it is almost exactly the same shade as that dress you love."

Her shoulders started to shake, "But what does it mean?"

I could feel the blood rising to my face. "Seriously? It meant I listen to what you say. Here is a flower in her favorite color. She will love this. It is Valentine's Day, so I sent you a flower."

She took my hand and started back toward the house. We walked all the way in silence. The gentle chill to the air had grown cold. When we got to the front door, she turned to me, planted a gentle kiss on my cheek and whispered, "Next time, send me the red ones."

I got back in my car and tried to figure out what just happened. How was sending a girl flowers a bad thing?

The next day, I drove to a florist and ordered six red roses to be delivered to her house after school. I wanted to be entirely sure that this time she understood my intentions so I included a note that read "I hope this color is more to your liking. And now that we've seen each other's true colors, let's not see each other any more."

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