Yesterday afternoon I met a young boy who I will refer to as Mr. Green Thumb. Our interaction was brief, yet his fascination left quite an impression on me.
His radiant smile served as proof that he was in fact pleased with my words. His eyes danced as the weight of my compliment began to marinate.
“But I don’t have green thumbs.” he replied.
I studied the two and a half foot individual standing before me. I watched him analyze both of his thumbs for a second time. My words had left him puzzled. He then proceeded to perform a thorough examination on the subject at hand. First, he carefully extended each finger checking the wrinkles and creases for evidence of green. He managed to do this while holding in his hands the very object that initiated our interaction…
“Why yes, my lovely, you do!” I exclaimed. “You have at least one green thumb on you.”
My eyes widened at the sight of his confusion. It was clear that he had never heard this expresion before…”having a green thumb”. His brows scrunched at the image of this absurd reality.
“Having a green thumb is an expression.” I continued, “It means that your good at taking care of plants. Look at that plant you have. Arent you doing some things to help it grow?”
Immediately, his gaze fell upon the delicate stem maturing before us. The plant rose proudly from the bed of soil in its recycled tupperware bowl.
“Yes I did,” he agreed. “I watered it to make it grow.”
His once bewildered smile began to evolve.
He went on to share the details of the plants inception. I learned all about Mrs. King’s photosynthesis unit. He accurately described the process of plants eating food through the sun. Together, we counted five fragile leaves scattered along its stem.
His plant was a success.