BEAUTY

The story of the Holy Mother’s. 

Soon after my small family moved from Stoney Creek to Beamsville, a Tea House held a quaint gathering for me in which I offered my knowledge of how to avoid table top poisons to a group of information seeking women and mothers. A local journalist who wrote for the town papers had done an article based on my moving into town and bringing my experience of Holistic Healing Arts with me, thus advertising my complimentary lecture. 

Afterwards, the journalist mentioned that a close, lifelong neighbour of hers in Beamsville had been recently moved into a local nursing home and her old house was soon to be leveled. She recalled fondly in her youth that the kind woman of the property grew extraordinary roses, and that she must be sad to know that they would be lost in the demolition. She informed me of the woman's whereabouts and suggested that I visit her in hopes of restoring or propagating what she grew up knowing as precious herbs.

I quickly located the woman, who was pleased to meet me, and immediately overjoyed that someone would take at least some of her roses and continue their growth. “Ilsa’s” (out of respect for her as she can not give permission for use of name) story may be brief, but it is an incredible one, and it changed my life.

“Ilsa’s” Story of Heirloom Centifolia Rose

Ilsa was a young girl living with her family in communist Poland. There was an area of wilderness she frequented that was home to the most enchanting natural roses. She was so drawn to them and their healing properties that she had become accustomed to plucking the blossoms off the stem and rubbing them directly onto her skin. She could feel the oils softening her skin, and the scent was incredibly soothing to her mind and wellbeing. When she defected, she dug a small bit of root up and traveled with the prickly stem held close to her person. Once Ilsa became settled in her home in the Niagara region, Ilsa planted the root and lo, it spread over the following decades into a dense, wild briar wall. 

In the decades that followed, Ilsa collected the rose heads during their two week blossoming period every June. She gently removed the bitter part of the petal and used the sweet, aromatic leftovers to be infused with sugar and turned into jam which she donated to her church’s mission for hungry children.

The blessing and honour I feel has been granted to me is remarkable, regarding these roses. I have since propagated them to four different locations to ensure their growth protection. The Holy Mothers are how I refer to them, as they are precious and produce medicinal abundance whilst continuing to spread their glory. Their scent and visual effect is tremendous, and harvesting them for infusions of tea, honey and oil for the most luxurious facial moisturizer, continues to bring great joy, and will do so for many generations to come.