The Button That Opened Roses — Every evening, Elowen counted the stones on the rose maze path and touched the blue glass button tied at her waist. Read the full story →
Every evening, Elowen counted the stones on the rose maze path and touched the blue glass button tied at her waist. It had belonged to her mother, though it looked too plain to matter: one round button, cool as rain, with a tiny crack like a silver eyelash. She wanted to know why it hummed whenever the garden went quiet.
Until one evening, a swallowtail butterfly tapped the button with one papery wing. Ting. The roses leaned closer, breathing a peppery-sweet smell, and the button answered with a note Elowen felt in her teeth. Because of that, she followed the butterfly past tulips and sleepy daisies. Because of THAT, the stones under her bare feet began spelling a path she had never counted before.
At the last bend, a closed rose opened without a sound, and inside lay a speck of moonlight folded like a letter. “For the curious,” whispered the butterfly. Elowen smiled and tucked the glow beside the button; next time you find the winding stones, see if one of them looks ready to hum.