This I Believe

May 26, 2017
By Anonymous

I’ve always had an affinity towards the quirks that various people do when they care for their plants. I enjoy looking at my neighbor’s yard out through my bedroom window: the grass is always dewy and green. Around the perimeter, there’s a section of vibrant awapuhi gingers growing. I’ve always liked looking at them. The front is always tidy, showcasing the shapely shrubs and the two different, but lofty plants to whoever passes by. In contrast, our yard is flooded with cars parked under where green grass used to be. The closest thing we have to a plant was the bouquet I had received three weeks from now, and it’s been dead for a while. I think that says a lot about who we are as a household, and as a family. I have met my neighbors: they are very kind, and very generous, and it shows. They even gave us a few of their awapuhi gingers out of goodwill.


I am a cynical person; I don’t believe that people are as sincere as they set out to be. However, throughout my life, the people who took the time to take care of other living things well and appreciate them, are the ones with the purest of hearts. I know this for a fact.

I have an internet friend who lives in Portland, and she’s a junior in college. She’d post pictures of her dog when she gets the chance, and sends me pictures of the plants that she has in her dorm in cute, unconventional pots. They’re all growing beautifully green. She’d go on and on about each one of them: what names she’s given them, what type of plant they are, how she cares for them, how long she’s had certain ones… She’d often check in on me to see how I’m doing, too. I’d tell her how things really are, I’d tell her what worries me. She seems to always have sage advice, and most of them have completely changed how I view certain things. My deceased aunt, too, had taken care of rows upon rows of plants. And, they were all loved well. Every time that I’d come by to visit, I remember being loved, too. I am very grateful to have had her in my life.

It doesn’t matter what religion you believe in, what charity you’re dedicating yourself to, if you don’t appreciate what you have, and what’s been here before us, your yard is dry, patchy, and barren of love.

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