By: Leslie Mak

March 29, 2004

 

“Just another day in paradise,” thought the rose.  “Here I am – it’s a beautiful sunny day in Newmarket.  “Good morning Melissa, good morning Ali! Hi Heather!  Melissa, are you up yet?” I shout to my closest rose friends.  I think to myself, “Could there be a nicer day than this one?” The beautiful calm is only disturbed by someone approaching the garden with scissors.

“Uh oh!  What’s that person doing with scissors?”  I hear Heather saying. 

I hear Melissa saying “Take her, she’s a pretty yellow bloom,” as the stranger approaches Ali.

I can hear in the distance, a voice saying as they point towards me, “I like that one!”

Melissa’s screaming, “turn away Leslie!” 

It’s too late, by the time I’m beginning to turn, “snip” goes the scissors, and I am caught in the stranger’s hand. 

“Help!”  I scream, ‘what are they doing with me?” I find myself panicking and yelling, until the person stops walking.  I look around, and see a large number of people outside, with signs that said “Liberty or Death.”

The stranger’s voice comes again.  “Mr. Mackenzie, please accept this gift, to mark your stay in Newmarket.”

“It’s a very beautiful flower.  I’m sure it will bring me good luck,” says the man, as he takes me and puts me into the lapel of his shirt. 

I think to myself, who are these strange people, and what are they doing here?

The strangers continue to scream “Liberty or Death!”  What liberty are they talking about?  They have so many advantages that flowers like me could only dream of.  What type of liberty are they asking for?

Everyone begins marching, as if they are in some sort of protest or rally.  It seems that the stranger whose lapel I am in is very important for this rebellious march. 

After walking for what feels like ages, there are people beginning to yell at us.  They seem very angry!  That wasn’t a very nice threat that person just yelled at us.  I should tell him to take it back.  I don’t understand why they’re so upset with us? 

We continue to walk away, and I find that there are more people surrounding Mr. Mackenzie and I for security and protection.  They must not want to come across those people again. 

Now we’ve encountered a bridge, but I notice some unfamiliar faces coming up from behind us.  They don’t look very friendly!  Oh dear, they just knocked that man off his horse.  Mr. Mackenzie is quickly trying to escape from this terrible brawl, as people are yelling threats to us. 

This trip has seemed to last forever.  I notice more people have joined our march, and it seems that we have more supporters on our side.

I can’t help feeling there is going to be change. Mr. Mackenzie struggled for something he believed in with these many rallies, and I, sitting in his lapel, took part in his journey.