Money Plant
When I was in the boys boarding school at the age of twelve, I wanted to grow a money plant tree.
Adjoining the boarding house was a beautiful, curated garden. Every day, from the dormitory on the third floor, I looked down at the garden marvelling at the sight of the garden. It had flower beds, grapevines, many tropical plants and tall coconut trees. It was a beautiful mini orchard. It was alive with an array of myriad birds who took shelter in it.
But what took my attention was the huge money plant vines that had clambered up the trunk of a coconut tree. The plant had large green and yellow leaves almost to the top of the coconut tree.
Once a week, for one hour on Fridays, boarders were required to help clean indoors and do garden maintenance. I loved working in the garden with my friends. In between my work, I rested and admired the beauty of the garden. Most of my attention was on the money plant vines. The enormity of the huge leaves took my boyhood wonder to another level. I felt happy just looking at this beautiful sight.
I had never owned a plant in my life before. The only thing I had been close to owning and caring of plants was to help my father in watering the flowerpots and croton plants in our garden. I wanted a money plant to grow in my own home. I wanted one of my own. In my home, in our front yard, we had a coconut tree in the middle of the two-way driveway. I kept imagining how a money plant vine would look like on that tree right in the front of our home.
Just before I left the boarding school for school holidays at the end of term, I cut a small piece of stem from the huge vine without anyone noticing it. I packed it in my Ford suitcase with my clothes and came home.
The first thing I did when I came home was to plant the stem at the foot of the coconut tree in our front yard. When I bathed at our open family well, I made it a point to carry a bucket of water and pour it onto the budding plant. With my constant supervision, during a month of school holidays, the plant had grown a few tiny buds and leaves. I tied a husk rope around the growing plant to bind it to the coconut tree.
Back in the boarding during the next school term, every time I looked at the huge vines on the coconut trees, my mind was on the tiny plant that was taking root in my own garden at home.
When I went home for the next school holidays, the tiny stem and budding leaves had grown to about a couple of feet high. The leaves were much bigger. My money plant had dearly embraced the coconut tree. The husked rope had fallen by the foot of the coconut tree, having done its job to embed the plant onto the tree.
During that school holiday, I did not have to water the money plant regularly. It was becoming a healthy plant and was growing by the day on its own, without my intervention. Every day, I sat on my veranda and admired my new creation taking shape in front of my home. I was proud of what I had achieved.
From then onwards, the money plant became a symbol of my growing boyhood. At every school holiday, it grew by a couple of feet with no effort from me. The green and yellow leaves became bigger and bigger.
When I was about fifteen years old, the leaves were nearly a foot long. It was as if the money plant was prompting and egging me to grow up. When I left the boarding school and came home, the money plant became my plant emblem and logo. I was immensely proud of my money plant, the only plant I nursed from its origins.
When I was seventeen and was attending university college, my beloved money plant was taller than me. It was growing by the day. I removed a stem from the emerging vine and planted it on another coconut tree next to our family’s water well. We had many coconut trees in our large garden, possibly over thirty. The new money plant near the well started growing faster than its elder sibling.
As I grew, I did not have to do any maintenance on my money plants. They kept growing and continued to be the crowning glories in our garden.
As a young man, I left Sri Lanka for Dubai a few short years later. Whenever I returned home to Sri Lanka on holidays, the money plants were still there. They remained my proud symbols at home. In Dubai, back in the day, there was no greenery. Seeing my money plants flourish in my own home garden in Sri Lanka, in contrast, was a great joy. Its sight nourished me during my short holidays in my home country where I had the best of times with my parents, kid brother and friends.
I took a step further, repeating my past action when I was twelve years old. now almost a decade later. I cut a stem from the money plant and took it back with me to Dubai. I nursed it with water and grew it in my apartment. Then I planted it on a pot and kept it on my bedside. The plant was a great reminder of my carefree days in Sri Lanka growing up.
That’s how a boy’s wonder of a huge plant became a nourishing guide to him in his formative years.
The story was inspired by Jonny Sun’s Goodbye Again. https://jonnysun.com
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