A Tale of Two Aloe Vera Plants:II

We were just a diverse bunch of recent arrivals to Houston, talking about our daily activities and interests; when the aloe vera plant came up. 

You like growing plants? What is sábila? Ooooh, aloe vera. I really want one of those. Well, I have one. Kind of....

I was talking plants with a new student, but not a young one. She is a local mother, and recent transplant from Cuba. 

In order to make ends meet, I spent my summer teaching ESL at the Bilingual Education Institute to adult refugees and asylum-seekers in the U.S.A. During a class conversation activity, I asked students to choose a photo on their phone, and talk about it.

Seeing the pictures of her patio plant collection, I felt an instant bond. I too make a new place feel more mine by growing, caring for, and photographing a Little Eden. My obvious interest in the aloe vera prompted her to offer me a "baby" from it, should one spring up. I lit up at her friendly offer. It felt nice to be settling in to my new home, chatting flora with a fellow philo.

A few days later, she brought me this. 

Now, I know they say things run big in Texas, 

but this ain't no baby.

Weighing nearly 20 pounds, with teeth that really bite, it felt as likely to injure a person as heal them. I checked multiple times, did she really want me to have it? Such an immense treasure, all for me?

Although, I struggled to carry it, and did cut myself transplanting it, its formidable form is exactly what filled me with joy. When one of its sharp spikes carved a little red line on my finger, I was completely in love, thinking "You got me! Better be careful with you..."

The plant´s massive and unexpected abundance matched what I experienced as a teacher for BEI. With only 7 weeks to cultivate little classroom communities, I did not anticipate yielding such a bountiful harvest of friendship.

My students brought their absolute best to class each night, often after grueling workdays and/or family duties. Every weeknight, our classroom was home to chatter, laughter, jokes, sympathy, and gratitude. Students shared stories of horror from their homelands, and real triumphs here, in spite of arduous struggles.

After the last lessons and good-bye parties were done, we stayed in touch on WhatsApp. 

Messages, photos, and gifs flooded the de facto emotional support group chat. Students (and their teacher) recalled feeling a needed sense of home with each other, after so many changes to the lives we had known before. When I shared a photo of my new classroom, they cheered for my little step toward adaptation.

Changing countries, jobs, and homes multiple times over the last two years has left me longing to feel settled. I am happy, safe, and in love, but the roots need time to make their way through yet another new substrate.

Over the years, you can see my efforts to raise people, food, animals, money, ability, and mobilize into a career abroad. What may miss the eye is that it came with an ever-stronger sense of solitude. 

What I thought was the vision of "our" future, was mine alone, it turns out. A devotee of hyper-independence, it took a while for me to realize how much isolation it yields. One accomplishment after another still did not create a sense of connection.

Now, the learning curve for our new home has been Texas-style big and hefty. Driving the Houston highways is no joke, and the weather often feels like Mother Nature never really liked you and wants you to know it every minute of every day. 

But, a beautiful opportunity presents itself here. Like a river delta, all kinds of us have washed ashore, and make rich possibilities for a new life. In just eight months, hearts from Africa, Asia, the Middle East, the Caribbean, Europe, and Latin America have surrounded me wherever I live, work, or shop. Our common humanity becomes our only ground, so we all get to growing.

To make with the plant metaphors just one more time. I mean two more times:

With any new transplant, patience is key. Provide for its needs, care for it well, let it be,

and wait for the flourishing.