One day, our florist received a very special order, signed by "Yang Liza", who asked for a year's worth of roses, one for each day, and the most adorable "little angel" to deliver them to her door.
Several of our flower delivery buddies looked at the order and said in unison, "That's so romantic!
At this point, the boss said to me, "Mei, I'll leave this order to you."
I was a bit flattered, and in a panic I said stupidly, "I'm not the prettiest, and my clothes are very outdated."
The owner said, "It doesn't matter, you're the cutest." With that, she patted my head.
My buddies looked at me enviously, so I proudly accepted this special task, and also accepted a nickname given to me by my buddies? Rose Messenger.
The first time I knocked on the door of Yang Liza's room, the door was opened by a grandmother. The door was only open a palm's width, and her wrinkled face peeked out from behind the open doorway, her eyes deep-set, like a ghost.
I took a step backwards in fear, and seeing that she didn't respond for half a day, just staring fixedly at me, I had to walk up and ask politely, "Is Ms. Yang home?" (I judged from the name of the subscriber that the customer was a young lady.)
She probably saw that I was holding a rose in my hand and pulled the door wide open. That's when I saw that she was in a wheelchair, wearing a costume that you only see in movies, so old and elaborate that it was as if she wasn't from this era.
She pivoted the wheelchair back with both hands, signaling me to come inside, and I carefully stepped inside. The living room was small and undecorated, as shabby as my house, but neater than my house. The doors leading to the kitchen, toilet and bedroom were closed. Looking around the four walls, the only decoration could be considered an enlarged photo on the front wall, which was a bust photo of a beautiful woman, in black and white. I think she should be Yang Liza, probably the grandmother's daughter or granddaughter, who knows?
I asked, "Ms. Yang is not at home?"
The grandmother only smiled and didn't say anything, the wrinkles on her face pulled up and down, making that smile seem unusually secretive.
I didn't want to analyze the meaning of that smile, because I was annoyed by her reticence to speak, so I went on to ask: "So? Where should I put this flower?"
She pointed to the windowsill and remained silent. There was a glass bottle full of water on the windowsill, so it looked like it had been prepared. I went over to put the flowers in, and looked out the window at the endless gray buildings, except for the buildings. Since this was the top floor, the other buildings were not as tall as I usually saw, they were short like a pack of monsters, and the people in the middle of the buildings were their food. I suddenly thought that the grandmother behind me may have never been downstairs in her life, and in her vision there are only monsters, so I felt infinite pity for her.
I turned to her and said, "When Ms. Yang comes back, you tell her that flowers need to change water regularly, just like ...... just like people need to change clothes."
The grandmother had that smile again and had her eyes staring straight at my upper body. I immediately realized the shabbiness of my blouse, and my face instantly turned red, and I said in a panic, "I should go, see you tomorrow!" After saying that, I turned around and walked out, and gently brought the door to my room with me.
At that moment, there was an aunt standing at the opposite door, and she asked me, "Little friend, who are you talking to?"
"Granny."
"She's a mute."
Hearing this, I felt even more panicked and hurriedly fled downstairs.
Back to the flower store, I said, "I don't want to send this customer."
The boss asked, "Why?"
I said, "She has a grandmother who is ugly, dumb and crippled."
The boss said, "But flowers are always beautiful, and you are giving beauty to others by giving them flowers. What do you say?"
I couldn't understand, but I knew the boss wouldn't let anyone else replace me, so I had to nod my head yes.
Once again, as I climbed up to the top floor with a rose in my hand, how I wished that the beautiful woman in the photo was home, but when I pushed open the door, it was still an old man with a wheelchair. I couldn't help but frown, thinking, this flower ordering people are really, just ordering and not receiving.
I did not pay too much attention to the old man in the wheelchair, walked straight to the window. From today, there is one more rose in the glass bottle. I picked up the bottle and scrutinized it, I think it's quite beautiful, but the water in the bottle is a little dark, it's time to change it. So I took the bottle and prepared to go to the kitchen to change the water. At that moment, the wheelchair suddenly started and rushed to me. The grandmother blocked me like an angry old cat, not letting me touch the kitchen door, as if there was a treasure or an unseen secret hidden there. Startled by her action, I took a step backwards, my eyes averting her gaze, and scrambled to explain, "I'm going to change the water for the flowers."
She reached out and snatched the vase, pushing the door to the room open with one hand and turning herself around to go into the kitchen, casually slamming the door shut again.
I was frozen in the living room, thinking, "It must be a mess in there, I'm afraid to see people, this grandmother is quite a face.
Suddenly, the sound of glass breaking came from inside. I could not care less, hurriedly pushed the door into, see the grandmother is frozen in the wheelchair, vase broken in front of her, two roses lying on the floor. She had probably accidentally lost her hand while trying to change the water, and she was simply stunned.
I laughed in my heart at her bravado, and then, pulling her into the living room with the wheelchair, I set about cleaning up her mess. At this point, I realized that the kitchen is not the mess I imagined, on the contrary, everywhere is scrubbed very neatly. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm sure I'm going to be able to do it, and I'm sure I'm going to be able to do it.
When I finished cleaning up, I put two roses by the sink, walked out of the kitchen and asked her, "Do you have any more glass bottles?"
She spread her hands and her eyes twinkled like we'd made a mistake in front of the teacher.
I said, "I'll go back and get you one, I have several glass bottles at home."
I took one of the prettiest glass vases in my house and stuck two roses in it. The petals of the roses fell off a lot, like two scalps, but the grandmother looked at them with a particularly admiring gaze. I think there is something wrong with her aesthetics.
When I went there again, she didn't stop me from changing the water for the flowers. I changed the water for the flowers once every time I went, and then eliminated the day-old flowers. When I was taking out the old branches, I was afraid that my grandmother would be surprised, so I explained, "This is called metabolism (this is a word I just learned from my textbook), and if the wilted flowers are not taken out, they will infect the new flowers, and the new flowers will wilt faster." After saying this, I wasn't sure if I was right or not, and after thinking about it, I added, "Anyway, if you don't take off a few branches, you won't be able to fit them in the mouth of the bottle."
At this time, I saw the grandmother secretly laughing. My face couldn't help but blush, but I knew that her smile meant that she agreed with me to take out the old branches. So, I was relieved to organize the bouquets and make them look their best every day.
Every time I waited for me to finish these tasks, the old grandmother would take out a kind of beautifully wrapped chocolate for me to eat. You should know that chocolate is extremely rare for children from poor families, not to mention that kind of high-grade. I couldn't bear to eat it every time, so I took it home and shared it with my siblings. I will never forget the scene we share a piece of exquisite chocolate: palm-sized piece of dark brown, it will be divided into several equal parts, and then carefully put it into the mouth slowly taste, the corners of the mouth exudes a tantalizing aroma, that look more beautiful than the New Year. My parents asked me where the chocolate came from. I said the boss prize. But once they learned from the boss that there was no such thing, they beat me mercilessly, and said, you should get just a salary for flower delivery, why do you still want the customer's small advantage? After that, I never dared to take chocolates from granny again.
Knowing why I didn't want the chocolates, the grandmother prepared a cup of Cream of Wheat for me every day. When I didn't drink it, she blocked the door with her wheelchair to keep me away. I had no choice but to pick up the cup of Cream of Wheat and send it to my mouth. When the lip is next to the mouth of the cup, the situation is very different, a milky flavor comes to my nose, I really can not restrain, then three mouth two mouths will be a large cup of instant goo down.
The grandmother took the cup for me to open the door, the old face is full of love, I will be in her warm gaze with a happy mood to leave.
This is the first time I've ever seen the world's most popular movie, and I've never seen the world's most popular movie, so I'm not sure if I've ever seen it before.
From then on, I had a good expectation every day, looking forward to early school to see the grandmother, there is a cup of fragrant drink waiting for me. I no longer envy those carefree students, because they do not have to worry about their hearts and minds, and do not have a good expectation. The grandmother and I also became more and more in tune with each other. She never spoke, just a gesture or an expression, I knew what she was going to do. Gradually I forgot about the woman in the photo, and I even felt that I was giving flowers to this grandmother. Even though she was long past the age of asking for flowers, I would like to think so. I thought that even if the woman in the photo never showed up, I would never ask about her again.
In this way, the grandmother and I got along happily. My daily activities in her house were limited to the living room and kitchen, and the other door remained closed, but I was very satisfied. Not everyone is willing to show their secrets to others, as in the case of my interactions with my grandmother, has it not become a secret in my heart? My pals only knew that I was delivering flowers to a young lady named Yang Liza, and none of them could have imagined that I had met such a granny. I was happy to have this secret.
Later, I was sick for a while, and when I went to work again, the boss said with a look of urgency: "You can come, one of your buddies is not willing to be a rose bearer, they said that there is a grandmother in that house, the attitude of extreme coldness and eccentricity, who sent a once refused to go to send a second time, I had to force them to take turns to send. Here you are, and it's all right."
The kids all came over and said to me, not without mockery, "It seems that you are the sweetest little angel."
I said, "Of course." And then, smiled slyly at them.
I climbed to the top floor for the first time after I recovered from a serious illness, and I felt out of breath. Maybe I wanted to see my grandmother earlier, so I climbed a little faster, and when I reached the top floor, I fell, and my hand rubbed through the skin, and even worse, the rose petals were left with very few petals. I put up with the pain and climbed up, thinking, this is over. But no matter what, I have to be tough to send up. So I braced myself and went upstairs. When I was about to raise my hand to knock on the door, it opened wide. The grandmother was sitting in her wheelchair, looking at me quietly. Her eye sockets had sunk deeper, as if I hadn't been the one who had been sick for the past few days, but she had. Despite her tired face, there was still a surprise in her eyes that she could not hide, like my mood.
Maybe it was my overly pale face that caught her attention, maybe it was the injuries on my hands, maybe it was the decaying roses, but I couldn't escape her eyes anyway. She gestured for me to walk to her side, then, reached out her hands to caress my cheeks, I felt her hands trembling gently, and when I looked down, I actually saw two lines of teardrops rolling out of her eye sockets. At that moment, my eyes were facing the beautiful woman on the wall, and I couldn't help but freeze. Where did she go? Why didn't she ever show up? Maybe after ordering the flowers she went out of town and the grandmother missed her and thought of me as her daughter or granddaughter. But who knows? When she lowered her hand from my face, I was about to change the water for the flowers, and I knew she had forgiven me for my indiscretion, so I was ready to throw away the defeated flowers in my hand. Instead, she took the flower from my hand and signaled me to throw away all the flowers in the vase. I was stunned, those were fine roses in full bloom. She gestured again, and with an encouraging smile on her face.
When I walked up to her with the empty vase, she stuck the one in her hand in it. The flower looked like a plucked chicken and looked funny. But she held it in her hand and admired it from side to side, and finally, with her empty right hand, she gave me a thumbs up, which meant that it was the most beautiful flower.
This moment, I have some new understanding of the concept of beauty.
One day after the fall, it was raining heavily, and my umbrella had a few broken leaks, and halfway through the flower delivery, my clothes were already wet, plus the road was slippery, and I fell several times along the way. But every time I held the rose in my hand high enough to keep it intact. By the time I got to my grandmother's house, I was already covered in mud, just like a chicken in the soup, only the rose was more colorful after the rain.
After I put the rose in the vase and was about to change the water, the grandmother stopped me. She gestured for me to come to her side, and then pointed to the bedroom door and instructed me to push it open. I didn't react for a moment, and being wet, I shivered. She did it again, and I carefully pushed open the door, which had been closed.
When the door opened, I was once again stunned, this is where the bedroom, is simply a costume museum. Various kinds of clothing with hangers open, along the wall hung in a row, and then look carefully, most of the older attire, the production is very fine and exquisite, some fabrics are gorgeous, some are plain, different styles, let me dazzled.
For a long time, my wide-open mouth slowly closed, and then, turned back to look at her. She is smiling at me, see me standing in the doorway does not move, then signaled me to go in and pick one to wear. I quickly waved my hand, and ready to back, then, she made angry look, she knew I was most afraid of her anger. I was really scared by her, honestly went in and picked one to put on.
When I came out, she saw a little girl in cheongsam, her eyes became straight at that moment, as if she did not recognize me. Half a day, before firming up her thumbs to smile at me, that was her usual action of praising roses. I just shyly stood there to let her see, although the cheongsam is a little broad, but I know this is the most beautiful costume I have ever seen in my life.
After the rain stopped, I went home in my cheongsam. The family's surprise needless to say, the result is that I was forced by my parents, reluctantly folded the cheongsam and returned it to its rightful owner. When I returned the cheongsam, the grandmother did not give me a hard time, which made me breathe a long sigh of relief, but at the same time, there is a hidden sense of loss. Later, there are several dreams, I dreamed of the cheongsam, I even swore, whoever is willing to send me cheongsam, I will marry who. I think, this may always be a dream.
It was the last time to send flowers to the grandmother, because that order has expired, I really hope that Ms. Yang Liza come back to renew the order. But that's just my personal wish, the task now is that I have to deliver this last rose.
When I climbed up to the top floor and knocked on that door as usual, the door didn't open in response as usual, and I tried to stay calm and raised my hand to knock again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again.
At this point, the aunt across the hall opened the door and asked, "You're the little girl who brought the flowers, aren't you?" I nodded and held out the rose in my hand to her.
She said, "You don't have to knock, the old man died last night. The doctor said it was an overdose of sleeping pills."
My head buzzed, but immediately and inexplicably I asked, "What about her daughter?"
"She's always lived alone and never had any daughters."
I didn't believe her and still looked straight at her.
She said, as if remembering something, "You mean that picture on the wall? That's her."
It was herself? For some reason, I couldn't stop the tears from flowing.
At this time, the aunt went into the house and took out a paper bag and handed it to me, saying, "This is what the old man left for you."
I wiped my tears and opened the paper bag, which was the cheongsam that I had worn once. On top of the cheongsam lay a note flat, with beautiful and neat handwriting. Rose Messenger:
There's something I've been meaning to tell you? Of course, I can't talk to you (I mean verbally)? You are the one who extended my life.
For many years, I was the one who lived alone. It no longer seemed likely that I would find the beginning of my loneliness, it was God's will, but I didn't know what God was doing by treating me this way. So, one day, I was ready to meet God and put the question to rest, by the simple method of suicide. Over the course of my long life, although no one really looked up to me, I was still a man of great self-respect, and I didn't want to make my death look bad, so I decided to end it all with sleeping pills. I knew it would be calmer. I tried it once and it didn't work, probably because the dose was too small. But in my stupor, I had a dream in which a man told me that I had to do one thing before I could leave this earth, and that one thing was to give myself a year's worth of roses.
Then you came along. In the beginning, I do not like you, of course, it is not your fault, but I am not accustomed to any stranger into my apartment, to know how many years, I am a person living alone, this kind of taste you if you have tasted, will be like me instinctively rejected strangers. But then I grew to like you, and you earned it. You were cute, even heartbreaking. I wanted to pamper you with a warm current from the depths of my being, but I was beyond my strength, and in fact it was you who tended to me. Anyway, we get along well, don't we? It made me feel so happy that for a while I even thought of ending my life, and I would have been brave enough to live if you had stayed with me. But it is cruel to let your rosy life be consumed on my old and decrepit body, when you deserve an equally good life, and perhaps it is I who have deprived you of that goodness. I feel a pang of heartache, I can not say whether it is for me or for you.
As the year drew to a close day by day, my heartache increased day by day, and it was not until yesterday that I resolved bitterly that I must give up beauty, for I have no right to it.
The last rose will be for you; see how beautiful it is, just like you. I was once as beautiful as it, really, do you believe that?
Your friend Liza Yang
Tears blurred my eyes once again. The last rose just swayed in my tearful eyes, like a candle flame in the wind.
In the days to come, I will treasure this cheongsam, not that I don't want to wear it, but I just feel that it is a secret of mine, the last rose in my life. It is only suitable to bloom in the heart, once shown, I am afraid that it will wither, just like the life of the old grandmother in one night with the wind.