It's thrilling writing here in #minimalist for the first time. You are highly welcome to my space so go grab popcorn while I narrate a little part of me so many people don't know about.....
Cindy and Me
I live in my own little world a place built on dreams, odd habits, and imaginary conversations. In my head, I build mansions, design lives, and script entire conversations with things that most people never even notice. I talk to my aloe vera plant, my bed, door handles, walls… oh God, almost everything.
I once slammed my hand against the wall and immediately found myself apologizing. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I whispered, rubbing the spot I hit. That’s literally me talking to the wall.
Sometimes I ask myself if I’m okay. Other times, people beat me to it. “Are you alright?” they ask with that concerned or amused look. But how do you explain a heart that sees life even in the inanimate?
Cindy is my plant. Yes, I named her. I found her or maybe she found me at a Catholic church. It was right after one of our tough exams last year. I had gone there to pray, to offload the anxiety I’d been carrying like a second skin.
After praying, I waited for my friends who had come with me. As I sat in the quiet, wondering what I was going to eat when I got home I noticed a large bucket filled with aloe vera plants, all tiny and delicate. They looked up at me, at least that’s how it felt and I swear I heard one whisper, “Take me.”
I’m naturally full of humor, so I responded. “You guys are so beautiful,” and continued “I wonder where your mom went.” None of them looked mature enough to be the mother plant. They were all just babies.
I crouched beside the bucket, speaking softly to them like they could understand. “I’m not stealing one of you,” I promised. “But if you let me take her” I pointed to the smallest one “I’ll care for her like my own.”
And so, I brought her home.
My roommate gave me the you-must-be-crazy stare, but I didn’t care. I was determined. I named her Cindy. I found an old bucket and begged my roommate to follow me so we could fetch good soil for her. We did. I tucked Cindy into her new home with care.
But then she started dying.
Each morning, I’d wake up and talk to her. I cleaned her leaves, gave her water, checked the soil, adjusted her position but nothing worked. Her green started fading, her life seemed to be slipping away.
I prayed for her. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I actually sat down and prayed for my plant. Funny right??
Eventually, I went back to the church, back to where I had found Cindy. Her siblings were doing so well fresh, vibrant, green. I stood by them, told them about Cindy’s condition, and asked them to help her… somehow. Maybe I believed plants had ears. Maybe I still do.
A week later, Cindy started reviving. Slowly, her leaves grew firmer. Her green returned. She began to live again, I guess her siblings did help her.
Since then, Cindy has been my little companion. When life gets too loud or too heavy, I take my seat to the balcony and chat with her. I tell her things I wouldn’t say out loud.
So, again I ask myself… am I okay?
I don’t really know. But I do know this - there’s peace in having something, even a small aloe vera plant, that listens without judgment.
Hope you enjoyed my write up. Thank you for staying and reading through and thank you as well for your support and contribution.
N/B- The photo is mine
I am 
