Asking a Plant’s Permission

When I was young, my grandmother would say: “Don’t walk on the grass when it gets dark. It needs its rest, just like us.” She taught me to ask a plant’s permission before taking a flower, to wait a moment, to pick it gently and say thank you. In these small acts, I learned that our earth is alive, that we are woven into her, not placed upon her, and that to harm her is to forget who we are. I’ll turn 57 this month. Still, if I touch grass at nightfall, I whisper, “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” — Karen Dipnarine-Saroop

Seeking a Digital Hit

I was too old to be compulsively checking my social media post: a 10-year-old photo of myself, Photoshopped just a little, my softening jawline tightened, crow’s feet erased. So far, 165 likes. A record for me! But what I really wanted to see was a red heart. Just one. From him, the younger man I’d been seeing but hadn’t heard from in a couple of weeks. Embarrassed yet unable to stop, I stared at the screen, willing it to appear — that pulsing burst of red. Beating for me. — Diane Bracuk

Why He Needed to Mention It

“I bought those shoes,” my father said as he walked me to school. “No, Mom bought these shoes with me yesterday,” I replied. “But I bought the shoes,” he said. At the time, I didn’t understand why he felt the need to mention it. Working as a live-in staff member at a North Carolina restaurant, my dad was rarely around, only briefly coming home to Queens every two weeks. Decades later, I am now the same shoe size as my father. He insists on wearing my hand-me-downs, still working and putting my feet first. — Andy Li

Tragedy and a New Leaf

Our oldest son, William, died at the age of 9. We set the table for three instead of four. For six months, we shifted seats, playing musical chairs — the grief version. We bought a new table. Perhaps a smaller one would make William’s absence more tolerable? No. Nothing worked. Our love and sadness were trapped, like knees cramped at a crowded Thanksgiving table. Instead of shrinking, we needed to expand. We added a new leaf to the table, welcoming our son Bodhi into the world the year after William left it. — Susan Shaw

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