Cherry Tree by Christianne

My smart, tender hearted, 17 year old niece shared with me a paper she recently wrote for her English class. Her assignment was to describe a fictional place so well that it appeared to be real. Christianne wrote about a garden for Simone. Her paper is written with so much love. I am thankful that she shared it with me and that she gave me permission to share it with you.

The 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 plantthat 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 them one last time before setting. A perfect heart for a perfect garden.

​On most visits to Simone’s Garden, I sit on a short, wooden bench that is a frenzy of colors with cool, green, metal accents and soak in the feeling of being near Simone. The bench is not just a place to sit and rest; it is also the canvas for a mural painted by Simone’s siblings and parents. Just to the left of the bench, Simone’s five year old sister has planted a string of pinkand yellow flowers. Bright pink bulbs and tall sun flowers were her contribution to the garden’s beauty. On the right hand side, the garden takes an unexpected twist; I find myself looking down at Easton’s chosen plants. My three year old cousin chose to plant rosemary and mint plants because he believed that Simone would enjoy the “pretty smells”. Herbal plants do not match the theme of light, colorful flowers, but Easton was so sure that his baby sister would adore them just as much as he did. Besides, how do you argue with that? The bench faces the cherry tree about ten feet back. This is where I come most often; I sit and soak up the smells and sights before I begin to update Simone on the world she never got to be a part of.

​Rustling leaves and the tiny feet that scurry along the garden floor let me know I am not alone. Simone is listening. With the inevitable darkness slowly approaching, crawling its way in to cover the world like a blanket, I find peace in a sanctuary. I miss her dearly, even as I never met her beating heart, but this garden, this place, brings solace to my heartbreak, and I am at peace.

​Slowly, I stand from the bench, and as I turn to walk back up the grey, stone path, a single fragrant cherry blossom flies into my hair, now matted and dry from the evening breeze. While a single tear slides down my blushing cheek, I cannot stop the smile that twitches at my lips. I love you.

In loving memory of Simone Esperanza Grover.