Mummy was crying again this morning, when she put Sunshine out in the garden. He didn't know why she was, but the first thing he thought of was finding a way of making her smile again. The rose, the only one left on the unpruned bush at the back of the garden, behind the vegetable patch, was the obvious choice. Sunshine had seen Mummy smile when Daddy came home from work with single orchid, or a bunch of carnations; of course she'd smile when he gave her this flower.

If only he could reach the fullblown rose still wet with dew. He had already picked his way across the carrot patch, taking care not to tramp the tufts of greenery that punctuated the dark, loose soil. He had helped plant the carrots during the Easter weekend - make a hole, drop in the seed, and close the hole. Daddy had been home for a few days, and the whole family had spent most of the time gardening. The weather had been fine, and they enjoyed their first opportunity of spending time in the garden since they had moved in a couple of months before. Life was perfect, then. Mummy and Daddy had both been smiling. Now Mummy was crying. If only Sunshine could make her smile with the rose.

He could not reach the rosebush from where he stood. But he didn't dare move any closer; his feet were sinking into the soft earth, and with each step he risked getting stuck or falling over. That flower, though, the only one left, the one that would bring the smile back to Mummy's face, was more important than his fear. He tried to move closer, stuggling to loose his left foot from the grip of the earth, pulled a bit harder, and lost his shoe. He overbalanced sideways, and sat heavily on a carrottop behind him. He tugged his shoe free from the earth and put it back on as best he could without untying the laces. He was dirty and had disturbed the vegetables. He no longer had anything to lose. He stood up, and plodded as quickly, though as lightly, as he could to the rose bush. Now to pick the flower and make Mummy smile again.

Picking a rose wasn't as easy as picking a dandelion, a daisy, or even a daffodil, though. The rosebush is much woodier than most garden plants. Sunshine bent the stem back and forth, trying to snap it, but though it fractured, the fibres kept their firm hold on the rose. And then there were the thorns to consider. Sunshine pricked himself, looked for a moment in horrified fascination at the blood oozing from the hole in his hand, then wiped it on the front of his once-white t-shirt. Now he had shed his blood, he couldn't give up the flower; Mummy would have it. The rose hung sorrowfully from the bush. Taking care to avoid the thorns, Sunshine pulled at the flower as hard as he could. His heels dug into the earth, but the stem would not give. He needed to try something else.

Teeth. Sunshine stood on tiptoe to reach the stem of the rose with his mouth. His teeth would easily cut through the fibres. He closed his teeth around the stem, and began to saw at it, moving his lower jaw from side to side. It was still tough going; more than once, he felt the sting of a strand cutting into his lip. But slowly, he chewed the rose to freedom, and when he had loosed it from the now barren rosebush, he dashed back across the vegetable patch on to the lawn, climbed the stairs to the backdoor of the flat, and rushed in, calling for Mummy.

Mummy came into the kitchen from the living room, her arms full of newly-ironed baby clothes. She stopped as she saw Sunshine. He had traipsed half the garden across the kitchen floor, and was covered in mud and blood. His dark eyes shone beneath the layer of muck, as he proudly held the all-but petal-less semblance of a flower in his hand. She followed the trail of mud with her eyes, back across the kitchen, then moved to the kitchen window, and followed it down the garden, back to the vegetable patch. A couple of half-grown carrots lying in a mess of dug-up earth greeted her. She saw a deepish hole around one of the rosebushes, and a sprinkling of browning petals, presumuably from the head Sunshine held in his hand, too. Mummy sighed, turned back to her child, and smiled.