A little unassuming plant stood budding under the African sun, her sibling buds scattered around her, all of them, taller than her. She was the tiniest. She was comfortably swaddled in layers of green healthy leaves, buried within the thorns of their mother’s stems and waving her head gently. The elements favoured her. A small brush of the frivolous wind, a small drizzle of rain, sometimes a splash, a dash of dazzling yellow sunshine, the soil she grew in was rich in nutrients; everything she needed to bloom. Tiny butterflies fluttered around her, wished they could practice their feeble suckles on her. 5 The Birthday Journal
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