That marigold made me wonder why our conversation started; And I even remembered how you colored it's life. After that I saw the hidden beauty of the flower that used to be so pale. You made this bloom and dazzle in above any other flower. The only difference in other marigolds is that it has thorns. I’m glad that you were not torn by these blades. I’d say that you’re the best gardener in this life. And so I started to not stop this sweet conversation. We were both in Grade two when you have told me. The manner on how you paint the color of the flower is the key. I can barely say that you’re my first ever mentor in the field of arts. You became the inspiration why I used to find myself painting. But you left me without giving you my masterpiece. When that day started, the marigold eventually got dry. At the same time I started painting black roses as the symbol for the lost one. This time my roses have no thorns to hurt your white ski...