Growing Daisies

When I was young I was a chatty child, but now I am a person of few words, but in three of those few words I can sum up a lesson I've learnt about life taught to me by a daisy - life, it goes on.

Most of my childhood memories are hazy and brief, but this sequence of memories is startlingly clear to me, down to the words that were said. I'm still not sure if I think this is a good thing or not, the clarity of these memories, maybe I'll never know.

I was five years old at the time of this specific sequence memories and halfway through my first year of school. Both Emma, my friend, and I were excited, that day at school our teacher, Miss Gatherer, was giving to us in our pairs, a plant that we had to look after for two weeks. Everyone in class was excited and fidgety as we sat on the floor, not because of the plants we were about to receive, the boys especially were less than thrilled with the project, but what child wasn't excited on a Friday afternoon with two days of freedom to look forward to?

Emma and I sat quietly, side by side on the carpets, arms folded, backs ramrod straight, staring intently at Miss Gatherer. The pair of us had been on our best behaviour all day, running around at her heels, offering to do any job that came up, all in the hopes that we would be rewarded by being the first to choose a plant. Miss Gatherer had brought a large range, hoping to try and interest all of us, even the boys, with spiky, dangerous looking plants. Emma and I had our eye on one in particular, it sported a large flower with lots of long, thin, oval petals and was the prettiest colour of pink we had ever seen. It was our daisy. Emma had seen it that morning as Miss Gatherer was unloading them from her car and had immediately set her heart on it, even without seeing it I wanted it too, as soon as I heard the colour, I wasn't disappointed. Our eyes flickered constantly between Miss Gatherer and our flower, it's bright and happy head nodding delightfully at us as it was carried. Finally Miss Gatherer finished lining up the plants and turned to us, telling the boys that were rolling about the floor to settle down, but Emma and I were not to be so easily distracted. It was our daisy.

Miss Gatherer must have felt our intense stares for she turned to us first, and with a roll of her eyes and a sigh she smiled at us. "Oh come on then Emma, Wendy, you can pick first."

As one we shot to our feet, eyes fixed on our prize. Our daisy! Together we picked it up, carrying it carefully back to our seats on the floor, worried that even a single jolt would damage it. Setting it down between us we gazed at it joyously, slowly I reached out with a finger to touch one of the many petals.

"Careful," Emma whispered to me warningly, her wide brown eyes watching it as avidly as I was. The petal was so soft, and thin as my finger tip rubbed against it, it had a slight furry texture, like a baby animal. It was ours, we would look after it, make it grow, it would be our baby.

We hardly heard our teacher trying to tell us all how too look after our plant, we were too busy discussing important things like what to name it and such.

It was the end of school in no time, we got to my house with only a little difficulty as neither Emma or I were willing to let go of our plant as we got in and out of the car, carrying it to my bedroom where we finally let go of it, placing it on my bedroom floor. Emma came to my house on a Friday after school, then her mother would come pick us up after I'd packed and I'd spend the night at Emma's, then the following night she'd come back and spend the night here. I don't know why we'd always done this, we always had, just like we had after nursery school before that. Why did we get tired at night? We just did, I never questioned it, Emma was my best friend.

Usually we'd have three glorious hours to spend romping about the garden before we went to Emma's, this weekend, however, would be one of the few where I routine was changed. Emma was going to see her grandparents this weekend, so I wouldn't see her again until Monday.

In my bedroom we searched through my stuff to find the supplies we needed to "dress" our plant. I brought out my special wrapping paper, all silver and glittery while Emma collected anything pink or pretty to our eyes that we could decorate the pot with.

We spent the next hour happily among paper bits, glue and scissors, putting together our creation, we stopped once for dinner but were straight back upstairs to finish our gaudy outfit for the plastic pot, more than pleased with the results. Picking it up by my finger tips to avoid getting stuck to the wet splatterings of glue I gave it the place of honour in the centre of my window sill.

"There," said I, "Now she has a nice view to look at while she is here." I turned smiling to my friend to see her looking at me with a cross expression.

"But I'm going to have her first," she told be bossily. I hated being bossed around.

"But she is here now, and she doensn't want to move," I reasoned childishly.

"But I saw her first, I should have her."

I moved between her and my plant, in case she tried to take her. "You can have her after the weekend," I persisted stubbornly.

"That's not fair Wendy!" She screamed at me. I stuck my tongue out rudely at her and with a shriek of rage she went for my arm, I knew what she was going to do, she'd done it before; the chinese burn. I slapped her hands away and in response went for her straight brown locks, easily tangling my fingers in their tresses and pulling, just as she did to mine. We yanked and scratched and shrieked so much I'm surprised it didn't bring mummy upstairs, finally I pushed her away as hard as I could, losing several blond curls as her hands ripped them from my head as she fell to the floor.

We stared at each other in open mouthed horror, we never fought. Finally Emma got up and screeched, "I hate you Wendy!" Then turned and ran sobbing from the room, her hair swishing wildly after her.

I was left with mixed emotions, upset at our fight and secretly proud that I'd won. Turning to look at my prize I felt better, it was my daisy for the weekend.

Emma didn't come back and I didn't go look for her, instead I talked to my daisy which we had already agreed to call Rose at school, introducing her to all my toys and including her in their games and adventures.

"Wendy, Emma's going," my mother called up the stairs. I looked up breifly but was too enthralled in the latest adventure to say goodbye, she didn't call me agains, and I didn't hear Emma leave.

Mummy had to chivvy me to bed that night, Rose was the last thing I saw before I fell asleep, her shiny wrapping glowing in the moonlight.

The next morning, when I woke up, I said good morning to Rose, then scampered downstairs for breakfast. It was strange having breakfast at my house on a Saturday, for as long as I could remember I'd been at Emma's. While I was eating mummy checked that I'd watered Rose and explained to me all things Miss Gatherer had tried to yesterday but hadn't listened to, things I needed to know to keep Rose alive. Concerned that Rose might be thirsty, I ran upstairs and filled one of the cups in the bathroom up with water. I thought it strange that you had to water the earth in her pot rather than her, something to do with roots mummy had said, still, I poured some over Rose, just in case, then carefully turned her round so she faced the sun, mummy said it was very important.

My weekend was spent playing with my toys and my friend Carol from down the street and watching cartoons on TV. I was looking forward to Monday so I could see Emma again and tell her all about my weekend with Rose, how I'd looked after her and involved her with my adventures, I'd had a grand battle of good and evil on the landing which Emma would be upset to have missed.

I found her in the playground before school, playing with Sue in the sand pit. I tried to join in their games but Emma yelled nasty things at me and dragged Sue off somewhere else to play, leaving me upset and confused at her anger. I had forgotten our fight before the weekend, but Emma hand't, I recalled her words; "I hate you Wendy!" She didn't really mean it did she?

I was a horrible day that day, all my friends were with Emma and wouldn't play with me, so I was on my own in the playground. I tried to talk to Emma but she ignored me, by the end of the day I was nearly in tears, I didn't talk in the car and mummy must have noticed because she asked what was wrong when we got home but I didn't want to talk about it so I hid upstairs in my room under the bed covers. She didn't say anything at dinner, but by bed time I was tired of keeping it to myself. Mummy didn't leave straight away after tucking me in, she knelt by my bed, playing with my sunshine curls.

"So," she said finally, "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"Emma hates me," I told her, repeating Emma's own words.

She leaned close and kissed my forehead, "She can't hate you Wendy."

"She said she did."

"She doesn't mean it. So did you two fall out?" I nodded, "Can you tell me what happened?"

I twisted my head to look at Rose, "She wanted to have Rose for the weekend."

"Why didn't you let her take Rose then?"

"Because I wanted her."

There was a moment before mummy spoke again, "Have you tried saying sorry to her?"

I realised I hadn't, I'd just tried to talk to her, but even if I tried I'm not sure she'd even listen to me, "No," I admitted.

"Maybe you should tell her tomorrow, hmm?" I nodded reluctantly, "Good night sweetie."

The next morning I set out to do as mummy had suggested, I scanned the playground and saw my old group of friends playing line tag, meaning they could only move about along the court lines.

"Where's Emma Alison?" I tried to ask the long legged girl as she raced past but she didn't stop to answer. I turned to Jemma who was catching her breath while Lynne chased the others.

"Jemma, do you know where Emma is?"

She shrugged, "With Sue."

The frosty replies I got from the others were just as useful. I searched all our usual places to hang out but couldn't find her anyway, and had to give up. We were lined up and ready to be let into school when I saw Sue slipping into the line, and looking down the line I saw Emma in her place too, but in the mad rush to put away coats and bags and get out books I couldn't speak to her and she sat on the far side of the carpet for registration. It wasn't until we had started the first activity of the day that I managed to sneak out of my seat and slip into one near her and Sue. I didn't really want to talk with Sue listening in but I took a breath and ignored Sue.

"Emma, I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I hurt you, for pulling your hair, and pushing you over, and - and not letting you have Rosie," I finished in a mumble.

Emma looked at me for a moment then turned wordlessly to her work while Sue leaned over the table to me.

"Emma doesn't like you, she doesn't want to be your friend any more." Anger flushed through me and I was so close to leaning the small distance and pulling viciously at Sue's bob. Instead I threw back my chair and ran back to my own, sulking, furious that Sue had stolen my best friend, angry that Emma wouldn't talk to me. I got told off twice that day for being rude to Miss Gatherer.

I didn't speak to Emma for the rest of the week, I joined another group through a tenuous friendship I had with a girl called Lesley and played with them.

I missed Emma. She was my best friend, we did everything together, none of my new friends could replace her and I held the hope that at the end of the week, when I brought Rose in for Emma, she might finally be my friend again. In preparation I dressed up Rose even more, cutting up one of Cindy's old pink frilly dresses for extra decoration.

I thought I'd looked after Rose very well, she still bobbed her head as if waving to me everyday and her leaves were turning a lovely yellow colour at the edges, I was very impressed that she could change colour, I just hoped her flower stayed pink, for Emma.

I left the house, looking forward to playing with Emma again, sat in the car, actually happy for the first time in days, looking forward to school. I knew not to look for Emma before school, she was never there, and had to wait until the last lesson before I could give Emma the plant. In the morning Miss Gatherer took our plants in, to grade their conditions, and replace the ones that were too far gone, which was to say most of the boys. Miss Gatherer put some special stuff in the soil and watered them, then last lesson we were allowed to swap them with our partners. I took Rose proudly to Emma who was sitting in a trio with Sue and her partner Paul, surrounding their Tulip.

"Hi Emma, I brought Rose for you, and I dressed her up nice." Emma turned to me, her nose wrinkled.

"I don't want your stupid plant," she sneered.

A flush of heat raced through me, not of anger this time, but of hurt and shame, my throat and eyes began to burn. "But she's our daisy," I whispered, our Rose.

"I don't want it," she repeated and turned away.

I stood frozen for a moment, I'd been so sure she'd be my friend again, that she'd forgive me. Cradling Rose carefully I ran to hide amongst the shelves of the book corner, my throat aching, it hurt to swallow. The tears didn't start until Miss Gatherer appeared and asked me what was wrong. Then I couldn't speak for crying and I didn't really want to, I was too consumed by my anger for Sue who had stolen my best friend, Miss Gatherer sat with me a while, trying to coax the problem out of me but eventually she had to go and deal with the class and sent Lesley to sit with me. I didn't talk to her either but she talked to me, gabbling away easily about the things she'd done that day with her friends, as if I wasn't sitting sobbing right next to her. Miss Gatherer came back but still I refused to talk, eventually she said we could stay here and read or look at picture books.

Emma's mummy came to pick her up from school that day, instead of her coming to mine, I didn't know why but I didn't go to her house later that night either, and I didn't ask why.

I was in a sour mood all weekend, it didn't help that Rose's head started to droop and the edges of her leaves shrivel and go brown, making me realise that the change of colour was not a good change. It was as if Rose represented the friendship between Emma and I and it was dying, and there was nothing I could do about it. Mummy tried to convince me to go out and play with Alice but I refused and then daddy got angry and sent me to my room. I could hear mummy and daddy arguing downstairs afterwards.

Sunday evening things changed. I was in bed hugging the giant bunny Emma had given me for my last birthday when mummy appeared at the door, her eyes looked funny and red. She did something very strange and lay on the bed beside me, hugging me. I was confused because she started crying, holding me too tight, smothering me with wet kisses but I didn't say anything. Then daddy came in but stayed by the door, looking at us, he looked ill. Finally when mummy was quiet and still he left again as quietly as he came. Adults were strange.

Monday morning was strange too, Mummy and daddy were quiet, and everything felt - sad. Mummy stopped the car outside school like usually but she didn't get out to let me out, she turned to me and her mouth opened and closed several times. She must be sick, that was why she was acting so strange, and daddy was worried about her, or maybe he was sick too. Would I get sick?

"You should go to bed mummy," I told her, "If you are sick." She smiled at me then got out to let me out.

I didn't realise at first the Emma wasn't at school because she was always so scarce in the mornings now but when it was registration time and Miss Gatherer called out her name there was no answer. I looked around and saw that Sue was doing the same, Miss Gatherer looked between us then went on with the register

Where was Emma? Was she sick too? Despite our fall out, I still felt worried, poor Emma. I'd get her a present to make her feel better, even if she still didn't want to be my friend, I'd ask mummy what to get her.

I asked her that night, she was in the kitchen, setting about starting dinner.

"Mummy, Emma was off ill today, I want to get her something to make her feel better."

Mummy stopped what she was doing to crouch down in front of me and take my hands.

"Oh sweetie, you know how Nana went to heaven to be with the angels? Well Emma....Emma's gone to be with them too."

I hadn't seen my Nana for a long time, I wasn't allowed to go visit her any more.

"Am I not allowed to visit Emma as well?"

"No honey, you can't."

"But she's left her Esmeralda Barbie, and her favourite pyjama's and I didn't say goodbye."

"I know, I know, but she's already gone."

"I want her to come back."

"She can't, she's gone."

"It's not fair, I don't want her to go. Why can't I go to heaven too?"

"Because I wan't you here, so does daddy, we'd miss you."

"You can come too."

"No honey, I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do. Please."

She sent me upstairs to collect all Emma's things, promising she'd get them to Emma for me. I put them all in plastic bag, then sitting on the floor, I looked out my window at the cherry tree that I'd so often played with Emma in. Why would Emma leave me? Why could't I go with her? It wasn't fair, mummy was so mean! I saw Rose then, all shrivelled and dying, this was all Rose's fault, if it hadn't been for her Emma would still be my friend, she'd still be here, not gone to stupid heaven. Filled with malicious anger I seized Rose and began ripping at the decorations that we'd done together, I was angry at Emma, I was angry at Rose. Sparkly pieces of paper lay scattered about my feet but I still wasn't placated. Running out to the landing I threw open the window and hurled her as hard as I could to the ground below. I felt the anger slip a little as I watched the plastic potting bounce every which was as it shattered in the flower bed below. There was a satisfaction at seeing Roses broken stem and what must be her white twisted roots lying exposed in the scattered earth.

The class was told on Wednesday that Emma wasn't coming back to school, they didn't say anything about her being with the angels in heaven but maybe they didn't know. Miss Gatherer made us be silent for a minute while we had to think about all the fun times we'd had with Emma. I needed more than a minute.

I had a question for mummy when I got home, I asked her when we were at the table, eating.

"Mummy, why do people go to heaven? Is it a nice place?"

"It's a very nice place, every one is happy in heaven."

"Then why doesn't everyone live in heaven?"

"Everyone does in the end, just some can go sooner than others."

"Why?"

"Because the angels invite them."

"Why don't the angels invite me?"

"Because they know daddy and I still need you here."

"Oh...it must be a big place to fit everyone in."

"Very big."

"Will I see Emma when I go to heaven?"

"I should think so."

On Friday I didn't go to school, instead mummy made me wear a boring black dress with my special shoes which were shiny and pretty. She didn't tell me why I wasn't going to school that day, daddy was there too, maybe we were going to work with him. They talked in the car as he drove.

"I still don't think we should have brought her," he said.

"They said they wanted her friends to be there."

"Who asks to bring kids to a funeral?"

"Hush!"

"Oh come on, it's not like she understands."

"Still, you don't have to talk like that."

"So what's going to happen? Are we going to make her sit through the whole thing? Is it going to be open casket? How do we explain that?"

"No, I think someone from the church is looking after them for the service but Valerie wants to see the kids at the reception."

"And how are we going to explain this whole thing to..."

"I don't know."

"Better think of something soon."

Not long afterwards we pulled up outside a church, the on we went to at Christmas and Easter with Emma's family, they were always going on about someone called Jesus who loved me but I'd never met them. But it wasn't Christmas or Easter now. There were lot's of people outside on the steps, even some of Emma and my friends. Sue was there, wearing all black like me. We were ushered upstairs to the Sunday school room where lots of toys were left out for us, and paper and pencils for drawing where the others all fell upon them happily while I sat down by the door, hugging my twin Esmeralda doll who was now my constant companion.

We were kept there much longer than a normal Sunday school lesson and I was getting bored, I wanted my mummy and daddy but I knew we weren't allowed to leave until the teacher said so. There was only one, she was dashing between the others who were getting up to mischief or fighting. It was easy to slip out while she was distracted to search for my parents. There was a window on the landing that looked over the main church hall, I had to go on tiptoes to see the ground below but before I could spot my parents I saw something that made my heart beat wildly.

"Emma!" She was there! At the front of the church, lying in a funny box thing which was black on the outside and white on the inside, it was a very strange place to sleep, but she was back! Excited I ran down the stairs, eager to see her, my footsteps were soft on the carpeted porch as I ran to the nearest of the two doors to the hall. I halted before entering, they were all so quiet I felt suddenly self concious at the thought of running down the aisle to Emma, I would probably get told off for leaving the Sunday school room. Everyone was standing now, and the box was gone! Leaning further round the door to see I spotted the box, four strange men were carrying it, and it was closed now. What were they doing with Emma? Realising that they were heading my direction I ran back up the spiral stairs so I was out of view but where I could still watch them all filing past. When they had all gone out the front doors I followed after, wondering what was going on. They turned right out of the church, then right again into the church garden which was full of tall stones, we weren't allowed to play in there. Using the corner of the church for hiding, I watched the group stop and gather, their backs to me, blocking my view. With a little effort I managed to climb a little way up the stonework which curved to make precarious steps that I could scrabble up, allowing me to see over the heads. The box was on the ground next to a huge hole and a pile of earth, the preacher man was talking and gesturing. As I watched, I saw the box lift up, move over the hole and slowly disappear. What kind of game was this? Then when people moved forward to take some earth and drop it in the hole I couldn't just watch any more. I slipped hastily down from my perch, scraping my knees but I didn't stop. I ran through the gate and towards the group.

"Emma!" I screamed, "Emma! What are you doing to Emma?" As one, they all turned to look as I ran at them, then daddy was in front of me, stopping me from getting to Emma. I tried to dodge him but he caught me. "No, let me go, Emma!" I screamed so hard as he carried me away it began to hurt and I started crying, mummy was there too, trying to quiet me.

"Mummy, what are they doing to Emma?"

"Shh honey, they were sending her to heaven."

"You said she'd al-already gone," I sobbed.

"She has honey, listen - listen to me. Emma died, and when someone dies they go to heaven, but not all of them, their body stays here on earth. See, inside of all of us, inside of you is something called a soul, it's what makes us all different, what makes you you. Your soul is what goes to heaven, but your body stays here."

"Is the ground where heaven is?"

"No, that's where they'll keep Emma's body." It didn't make sense what she was saying, about this soul inside of me, how could Emma be in heaven yet here as well? Mummy sat in the back with me on the way home, holding me, hugging me, we didn't speak of it again.

-----

A few weeks later I was in the garden, mummy had promised me ice-cream if I helped her in the garden, I didn't go out much any more. She'd set me picking out the rocks from the flower bed and pulling up the plants she pointed up, I had to be very careful, she got very cross if I pulled up the wrong one. I moved along the bed next to the wall of the house when something shiny in the earth caught my eye. I pulled it from the loose soil and found it to be a piece of shiny paper, like my special wrapping paper. Next to it was a brown piece of curved plastic, looking up I found I was beneath the landing window, this was where I'd thrown Rose. I looked further along the bed and not far away a pink flower stood out amongst the greens and browns, a pink daisy. I stared in confusion, mummy said I'd killed her when I'd thrown her out the window so how was she alive? I hadn't looked after her or watered her.

I knelt on the grass, rubbing her soft petals between my fingers, mummy must have been wrong, she didn't die....she didn't die.

Emma. She was wrong about Rose, so could she be wrong about Emma?

Mummy came over to see what I was doing and I pointed out Rose to her, asking how she was still alive.

"I don't know sweetie, sometimes plants are like that, no matter how hard you try to look after them and keep them alive, they die, while others you leave outside and they'll grown on their own with out any help."

Her explanation left me a lot to think about, would Emma come back if I left her alone? Plants had to be in soil, mummy told me that, otherwise they couldn't live, was that why they had put Emma in the ground, because she needed the earth and they thought if they left her alone she might come back?

I asked mummy to take me to church that Sunday, I went to the garden and sat by the spot where they'd put Emma, mummy tried to make me go inside but I was waiting for Emma. There was one of those big stones there now and someone had carved her name into it, I sat next to it, watching, waiting. I made mummy take me back three times before she refused so I left the house and walked. I was scared, it was a long way and I had to cross roads, mummy would be cross with me, but what if Emma came back?

I hadn't been there long when mummy and daddy came, they told me off badly and I had to miss dinner that night, but they took me back the next Sunday.

I still go visit her grave sometimes, I've grown up now and I understand better, but I still miss her. I used to be a chatty child, but now I'm a person of few words, and in three of them I can sum a lesson I've learnt about life - it goes on. That pretty much covers it all.