2011-03-10 13:49:02 UTC
Growing up in California, was the best experience in my life. California wasn't just the state I grew up in, or the state I was raised in. It's my home, and always will be. It's where I spent most of my 13 years growing up. It's where I made the best of friends, and most importantly, where my heart belongs. My parents decided to come here to Cleveland because my mom heard lots of rumors about how Cleveland was such a civilized state, such a beautiful place to be, and the apartments are nice. You probably can tell my mom is strongly gullible, always has been from the day I was born. When I heard I was moving, I was traumatized. But, I had to move. We needed a bigger apartment anyways. As were moving into our new apartment, I spot a garden. Not just an ordinary garden, but a big, beautiful Cleveland garden. We don't have much gardens back in California, so this was something new. I think I liked it. Change is always good. That's what my father taught me. As I head out to look at the garden, I spot corn. Corn was my favorite vegetable back in California. California is best known for the best juicy, sweet corn. That's something I'll miss terribly. My heart drops as I look at the corn stalks so straight, without a piece bending. And then it comes to me;I feel it. Maybe this place isn't so bad. Maybe this will be good for me. A new start, a new change. Nothing to terrible. But, I'll always truly deep down miss my California. The one and only home I will ever know. Days and go by, and I keep noticing that beautiful garden I spotted the other day. Flowers, lettuce, cauliflower, tomatoes, pumpkins, and sunshine beaming through the crisp leaves of the trees. I walk in, hoping to spot that corn I noticed before. Instead, I see people. All different kinds of races, cultures, and backgrounds. Hispanic, black, Asian, and Mexican. They greet me, and tell me this is the Garden. They also tell me that each spot of the garden is owned by someone. The cauliflower is owned by someone, as is the tomatoes owned by another. I get it now. As I leave the garden, I think of a plan. An idea. It comes to me. What if. What if I own a piece of that garden. Any piece, just my piece. I could own corn just like California, or I could own something else. Anything, anything I want. That night, I ask my parents what they miss most of California.They tell me the Bird of Paradise. It's a flower; the most alluring flower you will ever see. I tell them I miss that too, and head to bed. The next day, it comes to me. I head to the near by grocery market and pick up Bird of Paradise seeds, and a shovel as well as a watering can filled with water. Just what this beautiful garden needs. I walk into the garden as if I have been here so many times, and head to a free piece of the garden, right next to the corn. I start planting. And then it hits me, the tears. Happy tears. My heart is filling with happiness, and I'm proud. I walk out of the garden with my head held high, and I tell myself how great this garden is. I tell myself that this new place called Cleveland isn't so bad in a way. We have the corn, and we now have the Bird of Paradise blooming soon. I begin to tell myself that maybe Cleveland IS like California, and then I stop. I can't say that, never can. No other place will ever be the same as California.I walk home as the sun is setting. I get into bed, and cry some more. Happy tears, big great happy tears. I wake up at 7AM to come to the garden and plant some more. I run over to the corn, jaw dropped and eyes wide open. I wish I can take a big juicy bite of it. I grab a piece, and I do it. I take a big bite. Just like California. Maybe even a little better. I hear noises, and turn around. It's my mother, waving her hand to signal me to come over to her. She tells me she has noticed me here, planting. I ask her why she's here. And she tells me she's been looking at that juicy corn as well.
“ Mom?”
“ Yes baby?”
“ I miss California”.
“ Me too. Me too.”
I give her a big warm tight hug, and cry into her arms. She tells me it'll be alright and maybe this garden is a good start for me. I listen to her, and maybe she is right after all. This garden has it all. The vegetables, the flowers, the corn. The California corn. And then it hits me. I know why Iv'e been coming to this garden. It reminds me of my home. And that's why I cry, because it reminds me to never give up, that one day I'll move back. That one day It'll just be like an other day back in California. That one day, I'll see the friends I lost in Cali, and after all, I have hope .The garden