Christianne R. Clower
Mrs. Aerni
Composition
5 September 2014
Cherry Tree They say that home is where the heart is. My family is my heart. I was born in a small town in California, which is where most of my family resides. On my most recent visit, I was able to be a part of creating what is now one of my favorite places. My aunt’s backyard, over the course of five days, was transformed into a memorial named Simone’s Garden, and it is the most captivating place I have ever been, both visually and spiritually. This garden is a memorial for my beautiful baby cousin, Simone Esperanza Grover with the most radiant cherry tree in its heart. As soon as I step off the back porch, the crisp wind of a California evening rushes through my wet hair sending chills down my spine. I follow the cool, slick, grey stones down the short, but particularly windy path towards Simone’s sanctuary. I can rarely make the journey down the path without getting goose bumps and fighting the urge to run as fast as my legs can carry me back into the warm house with my family. As the short hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, I take step after step, and the closer I get, the more peace I find. I close my eyes and inhale through my nose so I can smell the sweetness as I become engulfed in that tiny angel’s presence. She knows that I am here. My favorite time to visit Simone is just as the sun is going to bed. Rather than feel the melancholy pull of the evening, the garden comes to life. Deep orange, bright pink, and purple accents paint the sky like an artist paints a canvas, meaningfully and radiantly. With the delicate strokes of an artist’s hand, Simone’s Garden is painted to perfection. There is not a dull sight, only beauty. Each colored plant was chosen intentionally with specific meaning. Purple sweet peas line the entire garden, creating a smell so distinct that I smile as it tickles my nose, and its name comes to mind. During my aunt’s pregnancy with Simone, her baby shower theme was “welcoming this sweet pea into the world”, and everyone planted purple sweet peas for her. When Simone left us, we sent her away with tiny purple flowers. Wind whispers secrets of love and life as it rustles the leaves of the garden. With each gust of wind, the garden is an ocean, and I am taken away to a higher place where everything is put into perspective. Why did this happen? Why was the world not blessed with Simone? When my aunt’s water broke, it was just like the two times before, except this time as labor began, Simone’s heart beat stopped. Before even reaching labor, my full-term aunt was told that her baby had died, and she still had to deliver. Visiting Simone in her garden is the closest I will ever be to my infant cousin. When the leaves and flowers move, Simone moves, for Simone is the heart of the garden. At the core of Simone’s Garden is simply a cherry tree. After choosing almost immediately to plant their favorite tree for their daughter, my aunt and uncle later learned that cherry trees have an old, deep meaning. Cherry trees represent that life, while beautiful, is tragically short, so when they chose to plant that particular tree, it had a much deeper meaning than they had initially anticipated. Simone’s placenta lies under the cherry tree, and as it grows, so does Simone. I have never known a plant to evoke such an emotional response, and I have never looked at a tree the way I look at that magnificent plant. It is the most captivatingly beautiful, blush pink and green. Its smooth, glossy petals shine as the sun meets