Thank you for bringing up this interesting and meaningful topic, Sunny. My dad picked out The Peace rose, as it was called then, back in 1955, for our new rose bed at our new home. As a nine year old kid at the time, I thought it was such a beautiful rose, and I knew its name. Its blooms were huge ,and it was one of the great earlier clones.. Since dad passed away back in 1960, The Peace rose has always been extra special to me. Diane

How sweet, Sunny! I know what you mean about how special it is when the children pick special roses. My son took a shine to Vineyard song and wanted one for his very own, so I planted one just for him. He takes such an interest in that little plant, so I hope it blooms big for him this year. Im also collecting roses that have the same names as my children… haven’t successfully found one for every child yet, but often something similar.

Wow. Poseidon, Crazy Love and Bliss in a garden center. And all at once.

Mississippi sounds like a gardening paradise. Nothing like that here in NJ.

I trust you appreciate your good fortune.

My soon to be fourteen year old son has given me two roses this year for Christmas - Rouge Royale and The Impressionist. For the first time ever he seems genuinely interested in these two roses and helped me choose the spots for them. Very touching to me and I will always treasure them

My spouse helped me pick a lot of my original roses. Our garden grew a little at a time but I was new to roses and killed several of them. I felt bad, not for killing them, but because they were roses we picked out together—even if we knew little about them and probably had better choices. So I’ve replaced most of them.

My mom has lived in the house I grew up in since 1974. Her parents bought her most of the roses there. It’s a zone 5 northern Indiana garden and they’re all hybrid teas, modern—or at least they were. Don Juan, Peace, Queen Elizabeth and more. They all still survive pretty well (which I use as a fact to tell people that grafted roses can last more than 10 years).

This brought back memories. I grew up in northeastern Ohio. My grandmother's favorite rose was 'Peace'. She bought her hybrid tea roses bare root from the local five and ten or sometimes the hardware store. She grew them in a narrow bed on the east side of her house where they were most protected from prevailing winds and the worst of storms yet got at least a half day of sun. She fed them with dried manure from the pasture and carefully covered them with a thick layer of straw held in place with a board every winter. I remember very few winters that her 'Peace' survived. My grandmother was beyond thrifty yet it was the one rose she would buy over again if it didn't make it. My grandfather's favorite was 'Red Radiance' but I don't think he ever bothered to learn the name. This was a great rose for my grandmother and on at least one occasion was still blooming on Thanksgiving. I remember my grandfather insisting that we follow him over to the window and saying "Look there. See that?' We looked out not having a clue what we were supposed to see. He was trying to show us that 'Red Radiance' was in bloom and was rather disgusted with us that we didn't get it. In our defense, I can't remember a single time my grandfather ever had anything to do with gardening- either flower or food.

My two older grandchildren both got a rose when they stayed with me the summer their younger sister (now seven) was born. My granddaughter wanted a rose and chose 'The Faun'. My grandson didn't have any special interest in roses but didn't want to be left out, so asked for one for himself. He ended up with 'Plum Perfect'. My granddaughter took an interest in her rose and its various perils. We nearly lost it last year but I potted it up and babied it a bit and it is growing and looking better. My grandson's rose is rudely healthy and grows like a weed yet is a reluctant bloomer that lacks fragrance. It has unforgettable thorns, too. He never asks about it and barely notices flowers at all. I doubt he ever thinks about that rose but somehow I can't bring myself to shovel prune it.

I guess the kids did not inherit the gene. One of my three children is really into gardening, one is starting and the third not yet.

My maternal grandfather was a gardener and two of five of us grandkids are gardeners. My parents were not.