"

From the thorn bush comes forth the rose." -

Old Jewish Proverb

The Crayon community hall was not as big as the main sanctuary. However, it was quite spacious. Where the walls of the great church were painted a light brown, a soft yellow grazed its walls and instead of the dark wooden pews that filled the former room, singular seats occupied this space with the occasional triangle table standing out from among their masses. The windows, however, remained huge and wide but they were not stained and where an altar had graced the front of the main sanctuary, this one had a podium that was completely bare except for a little pulpit that was stashed away on one of its corners.

Apart from that, this room was filled with people, young people that is. They were scattered all over the room as they chatted away with their friends, sipping away at their cups of tea, while the rest of them con

"

You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.-

Thomas Moore.

Katrina stared into the back of the driver's seat with a weird look on her face. The back of his head was more like it as the man slowly drove her away from the Rosilian manor. She would miss it, the view and everything in it. She would miss the flowers, the scents of the valley that the cold mountain breeze always brought in, the little brook at the bottom of the valley, and the roses that gave the estate its name. She would miss all of it and most of all, she would miss her grandmother and her mum Alice, even her dad despite being the main reason that was behind her leaving.

"Where are you taking me, Arnold?" she thought as she observed how confident her new driver was and also, very well built for a man who was supposed to be in his late seventies. However, sh

"

Truths and roses have thorns about them." -

Henry David Thoreau

"I do not understand..." Katrina frowned as she inclined her head to look out against the cliff valley and the valley that was spread below.

She had returned to the drawing-room once again and this time her grandmother accompanied her to listen to her play. However and despite how much she tried Katrina could not concentrate as her mind was on Ryan's words, the words that he had spoken to her earlier on that day. For some reason, these words kept replaying in her head and eventually they saw her put her violin down and give up playing altogether. In the end, she left her station and pitched camp at the window, staring hard into the valley as if it possessed the very answers that she was struggling to obtain.

"What don't you understand?" her grandmother finally asked her. Katrina had been very quiet about that particul

"

From the thorn bush comes forth the rose." -

Old Jewish Proverb

The Crayon community hall was not as big as the main sanctuary. However, it was quite spacious. Where the walls of the great church were painted a light brown, a soft yellow grazed its walls and instead of the dark wooden pews that filled the former room, singular seats occupied this space with the occasional triangle table standing out from among their masses. The windows, however, remained huge and wide but they were not stained and where an altar had graced the front of the main sanctuary, this one had a podium that was completely bare except for a little pulpit that was stashed away on one of its corners.

Apart from that, this room was filled with people, young people that is. They were scattered all over the room as they chatted away with their friends, sipping away at their cups of tea, while the rest of them congregated near the back where a tea-table had been set up. All in all, the crowd was made up of about

Chapter 7