The Yellow Rose

Yellow roses are an expression of exuberance. Yellow roses evoke sunny feelings of joy, warmth and welcome. They are symbols of friendship and caring. The yellow rose, like the other roses, does not carry an undertone of romance. It indicates purely platonic emotions.

In Victorian times the rose meant jealousy. Maybe our thoughts have changed. Today it is given as a sign of friendship, sometimes as a sign of sympathy. It is the rose of familiar love and domestic happiness. The yellow rose of Texas is the only rose for me♥



I empower you to give your story or poem life of how the rose or roses touched your life.  What gift have you received? A few pointers:

  • Upon submitting your story please select first by color.
  • I have provided information about the symbolic meanings, this is informational only, your story of a particular color may not be associated with any of the meanings and that’s OK! If there is a connection, hurray!
  • Your submission is not limited to a single rose, it can be inspired by garden, bouquet or trellis.

As you submit your story/poem it will not appear immediately. All post are moderated for review and then posted, this way I can eliminate the spammers. Thanks for your understanding!

Enroll to receive updates,come back, visit and watch our progress♥


9 thoughts on “The Yellow Rose

  1. Fran Bliek 02/18/2012 at 8:43 pm Reply

    I have a story – The Yellow Rose Buds. How would you like me to submit it for your review? FMB

    • Peggy Martinez 02/18/2012 at 9:13 pm Reply

      Hi Fran, That would be so awesome. To post your story go to “Share your story or poem”, select to color and then post. Looking forward to your story!


      Feel free to spread the word!

  2. nancy radzik 02/23/2012 at 10:33 pm Reply

    Peggy ……my story needs some background……i come from a long line of believers in life after death…..and signs given from people who have passed…….i and my long line of believers also believe in the power of prayer and especially the miraculous works of st. theresa…… is my story…..several years ago, when my mother passed away, her sister, my aunt, prayed to st. theresa for a sign from my mother that she was alright. a few days later, at the funeral, as my aunt was passing by the back of the hearse, a large yellow rose fell out of the back of the vehicle right onto her feet….she picked it up and knew exactly how and why it had happened. she felt more at ease after that incident and so did i when she told me the story. i hope my story may make others feel more at ease. thank you for giving me the opportunity to be a part of your flower stories. nancy radzik

    • Peggy Martinez 02/23/2012 at 11:11 pm Reply

      Thank you for sharing your story Nancy about the power of prayer, sorry for your loss. May sharing your story bring a sense of healing to you.


  3. Fran Bliek 02/24/2012 at 3:29 am Reply

    Yellow Rose Buds

    My father developed Type B Diabetes in his 50’s. It caused him problems throughout his remaining years. In the late 80’s he had to have one of his legs removed just below the knee. His courage and strength pulled him through this ordeal. Our family was devastated to learn that Dad would have to be so handicapped but knew this would save his life. He was fit with prosthesis and learned how to use it through many sessions with his physical therapist. He expressed his desire to her that he would like to be able to dance at his grandson’s wedding in the spring. Our son Brian was married a short time after Dad’s return home from the hospital. During the reception, “Through The Years” was played in honor of Mom & Dad’s upcoming anniversary. Dad escorted Mom to the dance floor and they waltzed as he had wished they would do. There wasn’t a dry eye at the reception.
    In 1994, Dad’s second leg would need to be removed due to diabetes and its impact on the immune system. We shed many tears thinking what this would do to him and to my mother who cared for him. He survived the operation and was in the process of learning how to use two artificial legs. Plans were put in place for assistance for both of them but he would not return home from rehab. Diabetes caused congestive heart failure and he died peacefully in his sleep.
    The wake was very trying but we made it through because of the love we saw expressed by so many people whose lives Dad had touched. The lines into the funeral parlor were long and continuous. Many grown men who had been coached in little league by Dad attended and expressed their sympathy but also told us how instrumental Dad had been in their lives. Friends and family from far and near consoled and strengthened us with their love and kindness.
    The morning of the funeral we assembled at the funeral parlor to express our good-byes before going to Mt. Carmel Church for Dad’s funeral mass. Mom went immediately to the casket and was silently expressing her farewell when suddenly she exclaimed, “He gave me a rose”! There from the inside lid of the casket hung a rosary made of tiny yellow rose buds which was a gift from Dad’s great-grandchildren. One of the rose buds had sprung out of the arrangement and landed in Dad’s hand. My brother, sister, sister-in-law and I went to be with Mother. Paul picked up the rose in Dad’s hand and gave it to Mom. Soon after…in succession…three more yellow rose buds popped out of the arrangement. Paul picked them up and gave them to each of us. All of those present felt this was a sign from Dad. Tears, words of comfort, and hugs were shared and soon we returned to our seats to await our departure for church.
    After a succession of prayers, the funeral director announced the names of those who would come forward, say their last good-bye and then proceed to the awaiting cars. One of my father’s sisters who had seen the rose bud scene actually shook the casket, but to no avail. However, when Dad’s cousin and best friend Sam was walking away from the casket another yellow rose bud popped out of the arrangement. My sister called out to Sam who had just turned to walk away and said, “Sam, he gave you a rose.”
    I am convinced that my father was with us in that room that day. We could feel his presence. The roses were a sign from him that all was well and “do not be afraid, I am with you”. The strength of character and courage he exhibited during his lifetime lived on and gave the rest of us strength to endure his passing and then two months later our mother’s. I believe there is another dimension that exists beyond reason and comprehension; there are signs of it all around us if we become aware and open ourselves to all possibilities.

    • Peggy Martinez 02/24/2012 at 4:50 pm Reply

      Thank you Fran for sharing such an intimate piece of your father’s life and touching our souls!

  4. nancy radzik 02/26/2012 at 6:33 pm Reply

    very moving story, fran….i totally believe you are right….your father was ‘present’ that day….what a lovely gift…you are so lucky to have experienced that….thanks for sharing, nancy

  5. Diane Case 12/02/2012 at 2:11 am Reply

    My 24 year old son was murdered by his exgirlfriend 4 days after his birthday. This was only 98 long days ago(8/27/2012). It is a tradition in my family to have live yellow rosebuds incorporated into a beautiful rosary and display it inside the lid of the open casket with the crucifix gently held by the deceased. We had to have a closed casket so I decided to encircle the floral arrangements on top of his casket with the rosary during the gravesite prayers. The the funeral director from Bluebonnet Hills Funeral Home in Colleyville, TX took the rosary out of it’s box, the flowers were all dead and only 4 out of the 40 remained on the rosary. She plopped the “mess” on the casket, which I removed. It was a horrible time to receive such a horrible gesture. Six weeks later, the rosary was “redone” whereby they superglued the dead buds onto the rosary. I’m at a loss of words and very depressed from all of this……

    • Peggy Martinez 12/02/2012 at 7:35 am Reply

      Hi Diane,

      So sorry for the loss of your son. I agree that their tasteless act has no words, but no one can mess or rearrange your love for your son, he will always know. Thank you for sharing your story and hope that by doing so will bring you some comfort. Perhaps writing a letter to the funeral director would bring some enlightment of their behavior. Feel free to write anytime!

      Take care,


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