By Fatima Haydar

Beirut – Flowers have long been the silent messengers of emotion, carrying the weight of love, grief, and devotion without uttering a single word. In joyous moments, they bloom as symbols of beauty and life. In sorrow, they whisper of remembrance and farewell. And in sacrifice, they stand as testaments to the immortality of those who gave everything.

On the day when Hezbollah Secretary General His Eminence Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah was laid to rest, Lebanon did not witness the customary sight of mourners placing flowers upon his grave. Instead, in an extraordinary reversal of fate, roses rained down upon the waves of his supporters—an offering from the very caskets that carried him and his comrade Sayyed Hashem Safieddine. His long-time protector, Abu Ali—known as the Sayyed’s Shield—stood above the sea of grief-stricken hearts and scattered red and white roses from the coffins, as if bidding his leader farewell in a language only the petals could understand.

And there, amidst the ocean of mourners, I reached out my hands, and fortune smiled upon me—I caught one. A white rose, pure and untainted, a symbol of the Sayyed’s unwavering devotion to his people. It was not just a flower; it was a relic, a fragment of history carried by the wind, a gift from the master of martyrs himself.

"Love is that flame which, when it blazes,

Consumes everything but the Beloved."

—Rumi

Every person who was lucky enough to catch a rose that day considered himself a winner. A winner not of material wealth, but of something far greater—an eternal remembrance, a token of devotion from a leader who gave his life for his people. That single rose, fragile yet profound, was a testament to an unbreakable bond, a silent promise that his path would not be abandoned.

Red roses fell for sacrifice, for the blood that had been willingly offered. White roses fell for purity, for the noble spirit that never wavered. And as they drifted from the heavens, each petal carried a message: the Sayyed did not part from his people, for even in death, he embraced them.

"When the soul departs, love remains,

Hovering over the graves like a prayer."

—Mahmoud Darwish

For the world, the funeral of Sayyed Nasrallah was a moment in time—a historic farewell to a leader of unmatched resilience. But for those who stood beneath that rain of roses, it was something deeper. It was a pledge renewed. A love sealed in martyrdom. A sacrifice that did not silence the voice of the resistance but amplified it.

And yet, the story of these roses did not end that day. After being laid to his final resting place, Sayyed Nasrallah’s tomb remains forever adorned with flowers and roses. Unlike the usual tradition where visitors bring flowers as offerings to the departed, here, it is different. Those who come to pay their respects do not place flowers—they take them. A rose from his grave becomes a token of remembrance, a piece of his presence that each mourner carries away. In life, he gave his people everything, and in death, even the flowers of his resting place continue to be gifts to those who loved him.

I held that white rose tightly, feeling its delicate petals between my fingers, knowing that in its silence, it spoke volumes. It was not just a flower—it was a piece of the Sayyed’s legacy, a whisper from beyond, a final farewell wrapped in devotion.

And so, while the world buried a leader, his people walked away carrying roses—each one a fragment of his undying presence, a memory that would never fade.

In loving memory of our cherished leader, Martyr Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah, and his faithful comrade, Sayyed Hashem Safieddine—may their legacy of sacrifice and resistance live on forever.