Tag: Story

What makes a great story

What makes a great story

β€œFor a story to be exceptional, it needs an original plot,” says a book reviewer, non-verbatim, for a book I completely forgot, but that which I will never forget as I have taken note of that same phrase in a Google Keep note.

And to which I reply, absolute poppycock.

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The Flower with No Name

The Flower with No Name

Hello awesome peeps! I haven’t been able to write any post for the weekend because I had the Headache of the Century. Paracetamol or any pain-relieving med didn’t work. So I applied vaporub on my head and across my scalp. Yep, I was so desperate to end the migraine that my hair smelling like Vicks didn’t even matter to me anymore.

And lo and behold, the morning after, the headache was gone! Thank God for Vaporubs.

But that’s not the story I want to share with y’all today. Today is Monday which means I have a kinda motivational story to share with you.

I’ve been staying in my grandparents’ house for two months now. But I’ve only noticed this plant last week.

Flower story for Monday Motivation

See back when I was in elementary, this certain thorny flowering plant that I don’t know the name of was almost dead. Like probably four leaves and it’s kinda wimpy. I was surprised my mom brought that from her school. She planned to put it in front of the house but it didn’t bloom so she just left it in our sideyard to eventually die.

Then I saw something white in the middle of the pot. I thought it was a paper my sister threw or something but no. It was a flower. For some reason, I was so transfixed with this one white flower.

How could something dying even bloom?

I kept staring at it. At one point, my mom saw me and told me to be careful with the thorns. But you know, kids do the exact opposite. So I’d try to reach for that flower but I could never lift my hand with no scratch. They stung, even the leaves have sharpy thingies. And after so many attempts and too many little cuts, I gave up. The flower still there, guarded by the thorns.

And one day, I thought of watering the plant everyday, when I arrive after school. It was the first thing I did when I get home: grab a little bucket full of water and pour it onto the plant. My grandpa would ask me why I was doing it when it was obviously dying. And I always answer the same way. I just want to see if there would be more flowers.

At one point, I was too caught up in preparing for high school and then getting busy in high school that I forgot about the plant. But it was still there. During typhoons when we get the occasional flood, during dry season, and after so many Christmases. The plant was there.

You see, I think we have gone or will be going through something that the plant had. A wilted moment. The time when we will be our lowest. And oftentimes, we act bitter and thorny with the people around us. I would know.

I’ve thought plenty of times that I have been at my lowest. But then something else happens and there’s a new lowest in my life. And during those times, I wallow myself in bitterness and self-pity and dozens of “you wouldn’t understand.”

But recently, I came to realize that the people who love you? They might have seen one tiny flower somewhere within you. That’s why they didn’t give up on you. And that’s a start.

So I guess what I’m trying to say here is: embrace the love given to you. Know that even if you think you’re suffering from your problems alone, someone hasn’t given up on you. 

So find the eleven-year-old Kate that will pour water into your wilted phase. That sounds cheesy but you know what I mean. πŸ˜‰

I think I was already in my last year in high school when I noticed the plant again. It looked so different from when I saw it the first time. And I could still remember thinking, “Yay it bloomed!” And now, two years after, it still is.

Happy Monday, awesome peeps!🌻

Who’s the person who didn’t give up on you at your lowest?

How did he/she/they help you?