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Christmas Cactus

 Write about a time you put the pieces back together...literally....figuratively. 

What was born? 

What was leftover after? 

  I remember growing up my dad would always prize a Christmas cactus in our family room. It was so out of place and I never noticed it's true beauty. As a young girl, it was just like every green plant. It was his grandmother’s that he preserved for years. 

Before our nightly prayer our dad would always tell us bedtime stories. Yet these weren't a fantasy, they were real life. I could probably outline my father’s whole childhood with his grandparents. We loved hearing the stories just as much as he loved telling them. He would always become so passionate and have such high respects for his grandparents. 

One day when my sister and I were messing around in the house we broke the vase and the plant went everywhere. It was too delicate and too late. He was so close to crying. 

Sooner than later it was replaced by not the same. It makes me so happy that he always takes care of a Christmas cactus. He never lets anyone else water it because that might not do it right. 

A year ago I was at my best friend Lauren grandma’s house. We were talking in the kitchen and then I noticed a Christmas cactus on the counter. I asked if it was a Christmas cactus and she said yes in shock. I described to her how there’s one that is always maintained in my house. 

It is so beautiful how they can last forever yet are so delicate. I physically broke the plant on accident but mental I fixed it by becoming aware.

   

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