Like a Child
Irene Porras
When I was a little girl I grew up in a house with a garden. A magical garden with fruit trees, flowers and grass. I grew up learning about them and how nature changes along the year. I shared it with birds, worms, insects, cats and a hedgehog. I enjoyed eating cherries, plums, quinces and figs from the trees, collecting almonds, strawberries, grapes, smelling the laurel and bringing a leaf back to the house for my mum's meal. My mother was always growing lilacs, geraniums and roses, beautiful and sweet smelling.
I spend many afternoons watering and raking this garden, looking up at the stars from there. We had barbecues in the summer and snow in the winter. I will never forget this paradise that is still inside of me, quiet but alive. Recently we have started a small garden in the backyard, where my children are now growing lettuce, sunflowers, potatoes and parsley. Child happiness, joy and peace are coming back in that way. To celebrate it even more, a stubborn avocado, born inside an exhibition room of an international art gallery is now proudly standing in my window.
There are miracles here. Everything is going to be alright.
I spend many afternoons watering and raking this garden, looking up at the stars from there. We had barbecues in the summer and snow in the winter. I will never forget this paradise that is still inside of me, quiet but alive. Recently we have started a small garden in the backyard, where my children are now growing lettuce, sunflowers, potatoes and parsley. Child happiness, joy and peace are coming back in that way. To celebrate it even more, a stubborn avocado, born inside an exhibition room of an international art gallery is now proudly standing in my window.
There are miracles here. Everything is going to be alright.