Estar, Tilly, Rosina...?

"I love this little flower and it is no slight thing
when it unfolds its petal wings before my tired eyes."
- The Notetaker.
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Inside our little home on the kitchen counter, this beauty is held captive in a 'blumen bowl." It cradles the bloom in clear water, entertaining me with each glance.
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The globe has been traveling around the world with me for the past thirty years. Not wanting to part with it and rarely finding a place for it inside, I've kept it safely stored away in dark corners of my garage until this week, that is, when memories with family and friends surfaced at my mother's 92nd birthday party.
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Earlier in the day, my flower-loving husband Don plucked this delicate rose from its mother-stem, handing it to me with great expectations.
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I held it between my fingers, marveling at its warm colors and perfect curves and remembered that my friend Patti names the flowers in her garden after her loved ones. So like a newborn's mother, I ponder words that translate what I see . . .
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Estar for a beautiful, yet courageous, queen?
Tilly for Chantilly, a lacy name that I love?
Rosina for my German grandmother?
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No matter the tag, nothing can silence the song it brings my heart, an elegant testimony of His handiwork.