The Christmas Cactus
Marleen, complete with a red Santa hat on her head, pushed her cart into Room 3157. “Good morning, Mr. Davis and ho, ho, ho, it’s time for your breathing treatment.”
The frail-looking man sat up in the bed, “It’s Christmas day. What are you doing here?”
“Well, all the elves were busy, so I was elected to give you your treatment this morning.” Marleen had taken care of Mr. Davis several times over the past four years and he was one of her favorite repeat customers.
“I thought you’d be spending Christmas with your family,” he said.
“It’s just me and my daughter and she’s in the marching band at Perdue. They’re playing for the Giants game this afternoon.”
He asked, “Didn’t you want to go?”
“Oh sure, but do you know what a hotel room in New York goes for? Cassie and I decided we’ll celebrate Christmas when she comes home for spring break.”
“Gee, that’s too bad.”
“Oh, it’s alright. Sometimes you just have to make do. Now, here, breath into this tube. You know the drill.” As she was entering data into her computer, Marleen looked around the room. There was one green plant on Mr. Davis’s bedside table. It occurred to her that she had never known him to have any family member or visitor while in the hospital.
“I’m working a double shift today, but I get to take a break during half time of the game so I can watch Cassie’s band. Would it be alright if I came and watched with you? The TV in the lounge never works.”
“Sure. Will you bring popcorn and beer?” he asked with a mischievous smile.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
That afternoon, she returned with cookies and soda. “It’s the best I could do,” she said. Mr. Davis was already watching the game. As the bands came onto the field at half time, Marleen strained to find her daughter. “There she is! Third clarinet on the left,” she pointed excitedly at the screen.
Later, she came to administer Mr. Davis’ evening treatment. He was obviously tired.
“I was able to talk to Cassie. Those kids are having the time of their lives.”
“You’ve work all day--all Christmas day. I want you to have this.” He pointed to the plant on his nightstand.
“Oh, I can’t take your plant. Someone gave it to you.”
“My son in Albuquerque sent it and I don’t know what to do with it. Do I look like a person with a green thumb.”
“I’ll take it but you have to let me give you something in return.” Marleen was thinking fast. What could she offer? She reached into her pocket and felt her lucky penny, the one with a cross cut out of it that her friend Karen gave her eight years ago when she’d had medical problems of her own. “Here ya go, a lucky penny.” She pressed it in his hand.
“I can’t take your lucky penny” he wheezed.
“A deal’s a deal,” she said. A plant for a penny.” She picked up the plant and added, “I’ll see you in the morning. Have a good night.”
When she got home, she read the card with the plant: Christmas Cactus. Succulent green foliage with rosy red blooms.
“Ha,” she thought to herself, “I don’t see any red blooms. Probably false advertising.” She placed it in her kitchen window next to an African violet.
The next morning she was preparing for her rounds and looked at her schedule: Room 3157, George Farley.
She looked at the charge nurse and asked, “Where is Mr. Davis?”
Helen gave her a look that said, you know what happened to Mr. Davis. Don’t make me say it.
Two and a half months later, Marleen was driving Cassie home from the airport. It was so good to have her daughter home for a week. When they walked into the house, Cassie saw the small Christmas tree decorated with green and white shamrocks with wrapped presents underneath. Then she walked into the kitchen and exclaimed, “Mom this plant with the red flowers is amazing! What is it?”
Anita Gardner Farrell
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