Six silk roses, a gift from somewhere in the past, as perfect as a pair of hands could make them, even to the simulated thorns down the stems.

A tiny gold label, glued to one green leaf on each stem, said “Made in Hong Kong” so the creator of my six silk roses was probably oriental. And I blushed to discover the fault of silk craftsmanship – one petal of each rose showed the selvedge of the silk.

Perhaps the Quality Control Officer had left early that day. Perhaps the selvedge was a statement, like the statement I had seen in Kings Chapel at Gibraltar. In the Chapel the ceiling is covered with dozens of hand-crafted roses. But one is less than perfect.

The culture of the craftsman did not permit him to create a perfect work so he implanted a fault in his workmanship. It was a statement of his humility as an imperfect being.

Perhaps the maker of my silk roses sighed with relief as the Quality Control Officer left, enabling her to implant an imperfection in her creation. Perhaps she also was making a quiet statement of her humility.

It would be nice to trace her to tell her her roses are appreciated. She might enjoy a word of thanks but such is the anonymity of things, she will never know my thoughts towards her.

Like the silk rose-maker and like the craftsman in Kings Chapel, we all make anonymous statements for the world to read. It will read us whether we like it or not and our imperfections should be a tiny gold label of our humility.

But wherever there is a living rose, we know exactly who has made the perfect statement.

‘God saw all that he had made and it was very good.” Genesis 1:31.

Elizabeth Price, Team writer with Just a Minute reprice@dragnet.com.au