We are young, dumb, and stupid. It’s Mothers Day, and our son is just four months old. I have been fretting over what to get my wife for her first Mothers Day. If we had to have, two penny’s to pee in a pot, we would have to hold it. We were that poor back then. I couldn’t let her first Mother’s Day pass without a gift of some kind.

I had worked on the weekend’s scraping enough money together to buy one rose and a card. I gathered aluminum cans, sold them back to the stores, and raised enough money to purchase these two items. I was proud of myself.

I placed the card and rose on the table that morning so she would notice it when she walked out of the bedroom.

Our son woke at his usual time. I changed his diaper, feed him, and played with him until he fell asleep on the floor. He looked so innocent laying there, and I couldn’t wait for my wife to awaken and see her gift.

She sleep late that morning and when she walked out of the bedroom she was surprised to see the yellow rose, her favorite, on the table and picked it up and stuck it to her nose. Immediately she began to have trouble breathing. I’m running around trying to figure out what to do. I rushed her to the car and to the hospital.

At the hospital, they determined that she had an allergic reaction to something on the rose. It was while at the hospital that I remembered that our son was still laying on the floor of our apartment asleep and alone.

I had forgotten about him in all the fuss and my wife never asked about him. While the doctors worked on my wife, I searched for a quarter, to call my neighbor to get my son. I asked several people at the hospital for a quarter, and they all refused. As stated previously, back then we were broke, penniless, couldn’t pee in a pot.

It was an old woman, who looked as if she had less money than we did, that reached in her pocket, pulled out a quarter, and handed it to me. I thanked her and wished her a happy Mother’s Day. Mothers always seem to know when they have to come to the rescue.

I called my neighbor in a panic, and she went next door, got our son, and took care of him until we made it home four hours later. My wife never forgave me for this. She was mad to the bitter end. We arrived home, and she went straight to bed and slept the rest of the day.

You see, my wife wasn’t angry about our son, she was mad about the rose. She never asked about our son. Not once, even when we returned home. It was all about the rose.

What I didn’t understand was the massive train wreck headed my way in the next two years, and this was the first indication. I was blind to the first symptom.

Have you ever looked back and examined your life, and realized that if you had paid attention to that one small detail, how different your life would have been. God provides the warning signs; he just doesn’t make them as large as billboards. Sometimes there as small as a few words, a single sentence, four hours out of a day.