A Dozen, Dozen Roses

One day I received a bushel basket full of beautiful, long-stemmed red roses, the card read "from a secret admirer." I was nineteen and I had never before received flowers, from anyone. In fact I had never been kissed, never held hands, never...well. There were so many roses, and when I began to count them I realized that the bushel basket contained a hundred and forty-four roses, a dozen, dozen. This might have been a man I should have married or at least gotten to know, for his devotion, for his uniqueness, for his generosity, except that I never found out who he was. I did not even know who to ask.

So many things I could say, even now, my explanations, questions for him. It will have to suffice to say, thank you, to my secret admirer over half a century ago, please know that I still appreciate the memory.

A Dozen Dozen Roses From A Secret Admirer