Pheona & Me
An unexpected friendship
I looked at her for several minutes. Dare I speak to her? She was small and fragile, but there was something about her that kept me from walking away. She wasn’t what most would consider striking, not even beautiful. She was cute, borderline pretty. She had potential. I still had serious reservations about befriending her. I had gone down that road before only to be heartbroken and disappointed. I was torn. Against my better judgment, I made the first move. No matter what happened, I wasn’t going to let it get to me. I held my hand out and reached for her. She willingly accepted my invitation and allowed me to place her in my cart. As we made our way to the checkout lane, we silently vowed to each other that we would give the relationship everything we could.
I was excited to introduce her to my family. But all she got from my husband was, “Nice knowing you.” You see, I have what you’d call a black thumb. Each and every plant I brought into the house died. When I say this, I’m not exaggerating. Over the years, I’ve killed several cacti and at least 4 ivy plants!
So understandably, I was a little fearful. I didn’t want her to die for several reasons but one in particular sticks out. I represented each plant I purchased. No matter the pot or the soil, life and circumstances had killed me. I was dead.