It’s a Cherokee Rose. The story is that when American soldiers were moving Indians off their land on the Trail of Tears, the Cherokee mothers were grieving and crying so much ’cause they were losing their little ones along the way from exposure and disease and starvation. A lot of them just disappeared. So the elders, they said a prayer, asked for a sign to uplift the mothers’ spirits, give them strength and hope. The next day this rose started to grow right where the mothers’ tears fell. I’m not fool enough to think there’s any flowers blooming for my brother. But I believe this one bloomed for your little girl.[to Carol]
A turn here, a turn there, and it goes on for years. Becomes something else. I’m sorry, you know, for the man I became, the father I was. I hope you got the strength to learn from that. And I hope you got no doubts how much I loved you, son. And you’re better than me. If I had been stronger, I would have been more like you. Hell, son, if everyone was stronger, they’d be more like you.
You can weaken the strong. I’ve been doing that my whole life. But there is one thing you can not do. Give strength to the fragile.[to Sofia]
When you’re as strong as we are, accidents happen, things break, and sometimes they are the things that you love the most.[to Ryan]
What you have to understand about my people is that they are a noble people. Humility is their form of pride. It is their strength. It is their weakness. And if you can humble yourself before them, they will do anything you ask.