What Fragrance Becomes You?

She stepped toward the door, then turned back to him and gripped his hands. “I can smell Martha’s climbing roses—the ones by the kitchen door. You know why?”

He didn’t know why. Neither had he noticed. “No. Why? I’m sure there’s a lesson for me in this.” 

“Before the storm you had to go to the rose to whiff its sweetness. Now it’s been hail pounded and windblown and it perfumes the air. The fragrance was there all the time, you see—just took some bruising to release it.” She kissed the palm of his hand. “Sleep well, Rayne. Tomorrow is a new day.”

  Esther was right. Tomorrow would be a new day, but never again would he greet the morning with love in his arms. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Carolyn had always smelled like roses.

***

Question of the day: After you've gone through the storm, wronged, pounded, bruised—

What fragrance becomes you?

Another excerpt from Rayne's Faith. Kindle version available for preorder from Amazon. Just type my name in the search box.