By Meggie, Copyright, 2010 (Protected with copyscape); for the glory of God.

Rosaline brushed tears away as she struggled onwards, it was almost dawn. After she had awoken from the voices of the men now searching for her, she had gone onwards as fast as she could. Rosaline couldn’t cry any longer, her tears had turned dry.  Brushing away a loose golden tendril, Rosaline ran onwards, willing her exhausted body forward.
She had to get away, Philip had betrayed her, and she realized for the first time that many of those handsome young suitors had been the same; most had only had evil deeds in their hearts. Her father was right.
Rosaline couldn’t hear anyone, so when she came to a small cottage outside of the woods, she immediately walked up to the gate. Looking down at her, Rosaline realized she was hardly fit to be seen, but she was hungry and tired. Her heart sank as a weather-beaten farmer came out with a boy tagging behind him.
“Hello,” Rosaline weakly smiled.
The farmer paused before he talked as he gazed her up and down. “How may I ‘elp you, ma’am?”
“If you could just point me in the direction of the king, I would be most obliged to you.” Rosaline smiled as the boy peeked from his father’s legs, staring at the older girl curiously.
“I am goin’ towards that a-way tomorrow, if you ‘ould like to stay with us ‘till then.”
“Thankyou; very much.”
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“Pa, pweeeease!” the small boy looked glumly at his father.
“Not yet, when it is in full bloom you may,” the farmer stared sternly at his son. “Don’t you go pickin’ it while I’m gone!”
The boy’s lower lip stuck out grumpily. He stood next to a sparsely covered rose bush with one lone promising red bud.
The farmer helped Rosaline up to the wagon full of hay. As the wagon trundle off, Rosaline looked back at the lone boy. He stared sadly after his father, and then ran back into the cottage. Her thoughts soon turned from the boy to her visit with her father. How would the king take it? What would he think of her? Would he even want to see her? As they neared the castle, Rosaline felt butterflies fly all around her stomach tickling her insides.
“Thank you Mr. Andrew for all your help,” Rosalie lingered outside of the castle.
He smiled. “Good luck, miss.”
Rosaline smiled appreciably as he rode away. She would need all the luck she could get.
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“Father?” Rosaline slowly stepped into the throne room. Her stomach lurched.
The king looked up from the throne; his eyes went wide as he recognized the girl. “Rosaline!” he stood up and hurried down to his daughter clasping her close. She was finally home.
Rosaline started sobbing as she tried to say sorry and explain what had happened, and again and again how sorry she was. Her father smiled kindly as tears welled from his eyes and dropped over his cheeks.
“Darling, it’s alright. Your home.”
They hugged for awhile longer, cherishing the moment. It had only been a year, yes, but one full of longing and falsehoods. Now reunited, Rosalie finally dried her tears and told her father everything, not leaving out anything.

A few years later, the son of the farmer, now a proud ten year old came to visit Rosaline. She loved his bright company and often had Mr. Andrew bring him on the market day when he came into the village near the castle.
“Rose!” he jumped out of the wagon and clutched her legs in the strongest hug he could muster. His father smiled and nodded his head to Rosaline as he hopped back into the wagon and drove away.
“How are you, Richard?”
“Ah, good- I think. I brought you something!” Richard smiled smugly at her. “Can you guess what it is?”
Rosaline laughed. “I have no idea.”
Richard pulled his hand from behind his back a beautiful full bloom red rose was clasped in his hand. The princess smiled.
“You’re a young woman now, darling; you have bloomed.”
Rosaline spun around to find her father standing closely behind her. She smiled. “And one day the real prince charming will come, too.”
“Hopefully not too soon,” the king smiled.  
“Rose, can we play in the garden today?” Richard tugged at her hand.
“Ofcourse.”

“Girlhood is a time of making ready. Maturity and independence come later. For another period our girl must yet be under teachers and guardians who carry the burden and responsibility which would ill fit her young shoulders.” – Opening flowers pg. 11

“Eve’s daughters are as flowers and none can say they are through unfolding.” – Jim Elliot (from Shadow of the Almighty by Elisabeth Elliot).

Girlhood is the opening flower of womanhood, teenager’s area half open blossom, we still have much opening to go, but if we try to grow up to fast, we may wilt and not be able to come to our full potential. We could be bright beautiful flowers, only if we keep ourselves healthy and prepare for womanhood. What are you doing to prepare yourself? How will you be wise if you have not studied? How will you be a woman if you have not learnt while in your teens?

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