Once there was an old man named Tom David Jack and he had no one left alive except his Calachuchi bonsai.
It was given to him by his mother when he was only thirteen years old after he told his mom he had no friends in school because he was ugly and boring according to his classmates and some relative.
It was a pleasant moment when his mom went to his room carrying a small tree that sprung an exact amount of four miniscule yellow flower that smelled like a candy from Heaven! It had one thick trunk that elongates upward and spring unto four beautiful branches. Ever since then, the plant remained Tom’s companion throughout his life.
On his prom day, the Calachuchi provided enough flowers that Tom made into a boquet for his date only to pick her up and see she went with another boy. It broke his heart.
And he never really had any relationship ever since. He grew up in a publishing company as a finance manager, unmarried, never had a pet, during Sunday mornings he would go to the church then spend a couple of hours with his bonsai friend on a bench that oversaw the wonderfully painted open-sky.
It was truly just him and the bonsai plant.
After some time, at the great age of seventy years old, Tom found out one of life’s secrets: joy is found in the most little of things. There is great pleasure, if one is willing to admit, in morning walks, stargazing, a cup of coffee accompanied by a good book, going to the park and watching people smile and chuckle, giggle and smirk, and all other forms laughter manifest into. And mind you, lonely is just an illusion created by people to comfort eachother during dark times.
Tom, now a days called as Old Mr. Tom, lives in a quiet neighborhood in his small house that has a spectacular circular window perfect for someone who seeks to welcome the day’s last beams of sunshine. Tom would always make sure that at exactly 5:45 pm he would be sitted in his comfortable rocking chair, facing the window, with his Calachuchi on his lap, marveling at how the sun is able to die every night and give life the very next day to all of creation. What a wonderful thing to see ,by where he was sitted how the sky, starting at the horizon, the sky swirl into pink, then red, the gold, then blue, and the the stars would start to peek through the night sky.
But on a rainy Friday morning, Tom’s only companion, his bonsai started to cough and loose its leaves. Tom got worried. Living with it for his entire life, Tom knows that his little friend only shed its leaves every 25th of August. And it was only February–spring! He gave it one day to pass hoping that , just like himself, his little friend is only experiencing the thrill of old age. The next day, it started to turn yellow and bend down. Tom hurried and scanned through his phone book looking for a plant doctor.
Gardeners after gardeners, botanist after botanist, Tom went to all the places that could help his only companion, but none of them was able to tell what was wrong with his friend. And when all hope was lost, a young lad who called himself Jerry knocked at his door and offered his help. He was a plantoctor he said with a certified degree of Floral and Founa Doctorate degree. Full of hope, Tom let the plant doctor in and gave him his plant.
The plantoctor did every first medical check-up a doctor would do on a human patient, he even brought a miniscule x-ray machine for plants. For a length of one hour, Jerry called Old Tom to the living room to give him the results.
His plant was diagnosed with root cancer afting the plant’s cuticle layer production and phothosynthetic function, a result of being planted on a red pot all of its life.
“Two days left…” was perhaps the saddest thing Old Tom ever heard. Here he was, looking at the only living thing who was ever there all throughput his life, and it was dying. It was going to leave him soon to.
With a soft nod, Tom said goodbye to the plantoctor and spent the night crying infront of his plant. He noticed that his plant had four of its flowers still in bloom but its slightly bended down formation suggest that those, too, are about to fade.At a point, Old Tom removed his glasses, sat on his rocking chair and hugged his friend, his tears falling down the plant’s brown earth.
The next day, the plant’s last day, Old Tom woke up at exactly the crack of dawn to give his plant the best last day. He decided to give its four flowers to four people to make them happy, even just for a slight moment, it was the best thing he could do for his plant, to share the joy he experienced from it with other peoplpe.
But before starting the day, Old Tom went to the park and was permitted, loved and known he was, to start digging up a nice hole where he would plant his little friend later at the end of its life.
After digging up the ground, Old Tom saw the first person who deserves the first flower: a little crying girl who was not pick to play by her mates. Old Tom went towards her and gave her the flower. “You know,” Tom started showing the girl his plant on a pot ” sometimes, and the best of times, when the world is busy picking flowers, they forget that the best part of a plant are actually the leaves. They may not smell fragrant or look beautiful, but they really are the most helpful.”
The little girl looked at him confusedly “Then why do’nt they get picked?”
Old Tom smiled. “Because most people are blind.” and the two of them giggled and Old Tom gave her a flower–and a leaf.
The next person was the librarian at the village’s quiet bookshop, Ms Noles, who could seem really irratable at most times. Old Tom entered quietly, placed the flower on the librarian’s desk and said ” Ms. Noles you are the most beautiful and the most irratable woman I know. And you are truly a gem in our little village!” And with that, knowing for sure Ms.Noles smiled, he left.
The third person was a young boy he saw thrown out of their place’s conveniet store for being caught stealing a couple of M&Ms. Old Tom felt for the boy who could do a great deal of wonderful things if only someone told him. The boy saw Old Tom walking towards him and smirked defensively “What’ya looking at, old man?”
Tom raised his hand and smiled “Please, I only want to give you something.”
“What for?” The boy asked
“Just to show you that there things, the best things in life, are for free.”
“Like frendship.” Old Tom offered him the third flower “Tell you what, If you’re free every Sunday afternoon, after church, you coud come to my place and eat all the chocolates you want.”
“For real!” The boy exclaimed
Old Tom chuckled “Yah, I could use a friend anyway.”
The last person was the plantoctor he searched for. He just said a simple “Thank you.” And Jerry understood that there was no need for any other words. It was fine.
After all that, for the last time, Old Tom went home with his plant.
He arranged all the chocolates he could find and needed twelve boxes to contain it all. And labeled it for the boy. After the work, at exactly 5:45, Old Tom sat on his chair with the plant and watched their last sunset together. “Good bye.” Old Tom tearfully said.
Old Tom watched as the sun descended in the horizon releasing a beam of red, he thought about finally planting his friend in a nice spacious ground it deserves, the sky was now pink, then blue, Old Tom started to get tired, the sky turned midnight blue and the last thing he saw was stars peeking through the sky greeting him. Old Tom died that night right after sunset. Died a peaceful and happy man beside a friend.
The townspeople buried Old Tom in the ground he dug up supposedly for his plant. His house was given to the village library, forever to be aprreciated by all manners of folk young and old, the little boy recieved his twelve box of chocolates, and Jerry the plantoctor planted the Calachuchi on top of Old Tom’s grave.
“Here lies Old Tom David Jack with his beloved little plant who both stared at the sunset everyday.”
And surprisingly, for years, the Calachuchi sprung into a marvelous tall Calachuchi Tree giving shelter to small animals, shadow for resting children all while , at exactly 5:45 in the afternoon, it was tall enough too see the sunset.
For many years it bloomed.