You May Call Her Magi

I was disappointed when I saw the plant she had chosen. I have tried to raise these, and failed many times. A philodendron, I said, pretending enthusiasm. They like a dark place, not much sun, she told me. I read up on them this time. They do not like their feet wet. Okay. They like moist soil, not damp. I tried for three or four days. Then I forgot she existed for a week. Her leaves turned yellow. They dropped on the floor. I picked them up and felt guilty. Why a philodendron, I wondered? This time I decided to name her. I began to sing to her, I touched her gently daily. She began whispering ideas to me. They were good ones too. Pretty soon she was lengthening herself up the wall. Is that a philodendron? People asked, Amazed. I said you may call her Magi.