THE YELLOW ROSE

BY DIANE CAMERON
© Eddie Bear Publishing

Elsa couldn’t remember when she saw it for the first time; though it would always
appear in the spring. Even years later closing her eyes recalling the memory of its
image, she could see it resting majestically like a captured ray of sunshine in a
vase on the dining room table. She reminisced of the flower’s pungency; its
perfume sweetened the air inside their home. In an act that grew into a tradition
her younger sister Greta would pick a yellow rose for her from the family garden
each spring. When the flower passed its time of display Mrs. Johansson saved it
for her “special day” in a handmade cedar box. The cedar box preserved the color
and the aroma of the rose. Elsa was to receive the dried flowers to use as sachet
and potpourri as a wedding gift whenever that “special day” arrived. Greta was
about 6 years old and not mature enough to understand but she knew that a veil
of mystery and sacredness hung over this satin gift.

In 1944, Elsa and her family had to flee from their home in Krakow, Poland. It
became increasing dangerous for Jewish people all over Europe. The Nazi’s were
sending them to concentration camps by the order of Hitler. Out of fear, The
Johansson family sought refuge in a sympathizer’s home in Poland for nearly 3
years. Years later, speaking in broken English, Mr. Johansson would tremble
retelling the story of hearing a knock on the door that seemed to last forever, the
discovery of his family’s hiding place and subsequent orders of deportation to the
concentration camp.

It was November 1944 and despite a mounting offensive by the Red Army the
Nazi’s continued their tirade of persecution against the Jewish people. With tears
streaming down the lines on his face Mr. Johansson spoke sorrowfully about how
his family disembarked from the train to Auschwitz from Poland clutching their
papers and each other adding that it was so cold their breath seemed to spell out
the letters when they told the officials their names. At this point in the story Mr.
Johansson began to have great difficulty finishing. With long pauses he retold how
his family remained together for days upon arrival at the camp. He wept as he
vividly related how the officials came and took away his wife and Greta. Sadly he
and Elsa waited and waited for them but never saw their precious faces again.
Bravely they waited for their similar fate when suddenly; the Red Army appeared
in the camp and set them all free. Though he searched and searched, it was a
bittersweet release because it meant leaving the camp without his beloved wife
and Greta. It was usually as this point that he could no longer go on. November
1944 played out daily in his mind he spent each day hurting and grieving over his
wife and Greta.

Elsa and her father immigrated to America and arrived on Ellis Island in New York
in the fall of 1945. Elsa would remark later “It was as if her father’s body arrived
on Ellis Island but his soul remained in Auschwitz. Elsa learned to live without her
fathers input in her life and did all she could to help him.

Years later, Elsa still missed her mother and sister. Her father had managed to
keep a small picture of her mother hidden from the officials which Elsa kept in a
locket around her neck. She remembered Greta’s smile, it was this pleasant
memory of her younger sister that she kept branded in her mind whenever Greta’s
name would come up. As long as she focused on her smile the rest of the story
didn’t hurt as much. She quickly adjusted to life in New York. She graduated from
High School and went to work at the Long Island Journal in1954 at the age of 18.
It was hard work and the hours were long but she was grateful to have a job and
felt ashamed whenever she thought of complaining. She had been working at the
paper for a few months before she met Stan, he was a machine inspector. At first,
Elsa was too shy to look at him when he would speak to her but he was beginning
to make a daily habit of greeting her. In fact, Stan would go out of his way to
speak to her. Elsa wondered why he sought her out but found herself slowly
beginning to look forward to his daily visits. It was hard to hold a conversation at
work because the machines were so noisy, yet he never seemed undaunted by this
fact.
A budding friendship grew and she and Stan shared many conversations. They
took long walks together on the weekends and attended synagogue together. Elsa
found Stan was easy to talk to. She told him the story of her life, about her
mother, and Greta and her father. She talked about the garden at her home in
Poland but she was not able to talk about the yellow rose. Stan invited Elsa to
dinner and a movie. Alfred Hitchcock was premiering “Rear Window” and he
wanted to see it. He had also arranged for a special dinner by candlelight. Looking
at him Elsa noticed how especially handsome he looked. Stan gazed at Elsa
admiringly as if he saw her for the first time. He reached under the seat of the car
pulled out a yellow rose. Handing it to her he whispered, “It’s almost as pretty as
you are”. I’ve got a second gift to give you at dinner. He held a tiny square box in
his hand.

Looking away from Stan, Elsa wiped away tears. She knew that this was a sign
that she would make a life with Stan. She looked up at heaven and whispered in
her heart “Thank You” She saw Greta’s eyes smiling and she squeezed her locket
and felt her mother’s approval. As she regained her composure she glanced down
at the beautiful flower in her lap. It was the most beautiful yellow rose she had
ever seen. Stan spoke “I hoped you would like it Elsa, a lady and a little girl were
selling them on Broadway. At first I bought one, and then I thought that maybe
you would like to have a whole dozen, I turned around to make another purchase
but it was too late. The lady and the little girl had already left.” Elsa moved closer
to Stan and held his hand. Stan’s car was filled with the aroma from the rose she
felt as though she was back at her childhood home in Poland in the garden with
Greta and her mother.

Copyright © Eddie Bear Publishing 2003-2009. All rights reserved.

This story may not be reproduced or redistributed without written permission from the author Diane
Cameron usaartistobenin@aol.com
Eddie Bear Publishing © rights reserved.