She Ate My Flower

Two thousand and eight has been a big year for charity, donations and pro-bono services for me. To be honest, I feel a bit tapped out what with presidential campaign donations, congressional campaigns, environmental lobbyists, the Red Cross and all the rest who phone me. The point is not to toot my horn but to say that I think I have done my part. So two days ago when a woman pulled up in front of my house and asked for my flower I was not inclined to give it to her.

I planted this yucca tree out front 12 years ago. In that time it has only bloomed twice. For the past few weeks I have truly enjoyed coming home and seeing that majestic white flower spike atop one of the yucca's several trunks. But it turns out that in El Salvador they fry that flower up and and eat it. She smiled at me, and her companion began asking me in broken English about the flower. I thought they wanted to know what kind of plant it was, so I told them, in Spanish. Then they made it clear that they wanted to cut it down. I gently said, "I'm sorry, but this is only the second time it's bloomed. Sorry, no. I really enjoy looking at it. Anyway, it's too high for you to get it." "Oh, we brought a ladder," said the woman. She got out of the car and began explaining how they cook it.

Just then Emilio came out and upon hearing the story expansively said, "Go ahead, take it!" "OK," I sighed. But I just wasn't feeling it. Sometimes I am more generous. At that moment, I did not want to give it to her. Then a voice inside said, "They're going to take it whether you say yes or not. They'll come back when you're not home and take it. Might as well give it to them."

When she cut it down I took a picture of it. It was about two feet tall. She promised to come back the next day with the cooked dish for us to sample. She didn't.

My only consolation is this: In another decade, that yucca tree is going to get too tall for anyone to cut its flowers down.