PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

One day, a chili pepper plant appeared in my mother’s garden. Where it came from is a mystery: a seed was probably dropped in there by a bird or someone, but I like to think that the plant just appeared there, that it came out of the cracks of the Earth just to stand there, under the shadow of a palm tree. And there it has stood for as long as I remember. Plants have come and gone but the chili plant is still in the same spot in the garden where it appeared. It is my mother’s treasure. She discovered it while pulling weeds out of the soil (those weeds seem to come directly from Hell). She would have pulled the chili pepper plant if it weren’t for the small, bright red fruits on its thin stems. They look like small droplets of fire that will burn anything they touch. And they do. When you eat one of those alone your face turns red and your whole mouth starts to feel a burning sensation that will last at least a couple of minutes after you ate the fruit. They are delicious. It is hard to find peppers that have an adequate level of spiciness while tasting good, or vice versa, but the ones coming from this plant are perfect. That is why my mother always uses them for preparing sauces. Two times a week there is a fresh, but somewhat sharp smell in the kitchen of boiling peppers, which means that a delicious sauce is being prepared. Everyone loves my mother’s sauces and she loves her plant. When she waters the garden, she takes extra care of that tiny thing. The water stream must not be too strong; it could break its stems. It should be pointed directly to the ground not to hit and ruin peppers that aren’t ripe. You should also look closely to find undesirable nearby ants or worms that could damage the plant. Weeds should be pulled, but being extra careful not to accidentally pull a piece of the treasured plant…. I don’t blame my mother for being extra careful about it because I know why she is. She knows that everybody loves those tiny red droplets that make food taste amazing, and she knows that a plant like that is unlikely to appear again. It is as if the plant had chosen to arrive in my mother’s garden knowing that it would be in good hands. And that is because my mother takes care of everything she loves.