Argentina – Tessa M. Perko's Blog

Wisdom of the Trees: Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Willow

Friday was the last day of class, and Profesora Casti lead her students to Almagro, the part of the city known for its flower vendors. First, the group wandered among the flower stalls on Acuňa de Figueroa where baskets of roses filled the air with intense fragrances. Leonie bent over the bunches to breathe in their perfume, and she took turns saying their names out loud with her classmates. They chatted with the vendors who told them where they grew their flowers and how they worked from early in the morning until late at night planting seeds, hand-watering, and pruning in order to produce the most beautiful flowers.

The vendors smiled when they talked about Mother’s Day, weddings, and baptisms for which they sold the most flowers. Some vendors stayed open 24 hours a day. The best time to buy flowers—late at night or early in the morning.

Then, the class meandered to Calle Sarmiento where even more vendors had their shops. One shop was filled with tuberose and jasmine, which filled the shop and the air outside its door with heady perfume. Inside, the vendor was busy wrapping flower bouquets in cellophane paper for a woman and her two daughters.

Leonie wandered away from the group to admire the lilies of another vendor. While she was reaching out to touch a petal, a woman dressed in a green apron came out to greet her.

“Your lilies are gorgeous,” exclaimed Leonie.

“Thank you. My grandfather used to sell flowers on the streets of Buenos Aires. My father sold flowers in the old market in stall 8, and, now, I rent this shop here to continue our family tradition.”

Leonie moved under the shade of the willow tree that grew right in front of the storefront. “I love flowers,” she said.

“I love flowers, too,” replied the vendor. “I’m sure I’ll sell flowers until I’m old and frail.”

Leonie paused in thought, running the woman’s response through her mind. Forever was a long time to do just one thing. Leonie didn’t know that she would ever find something that she wanted to do for so long.

“So,” Leonie asked, “You don’t ever wish that you could do anything else?”

The woman smoothed down the front of her green apron with hands that were crusted with dirt and chapped from years of working with plants. “No, I never wish to do anything else,” she finally said. “I feel that each day in my flower shop is another day where I get to express my creativity, and doing that gives me intense joy. Besides, I know that I like to be around beautiful things, and what could be more beautiful than a shop full of flowers.”

“You seem so contented,” said Leonie.

“You see this willow tree that’s giving you shade? A willow tree symbolizes fulfilling wishes of the heart. It also symbolizes inner vision. I’m lucky to know what fulfills my life. That knowledge is my inner wisdom.”

The vendor showed Leonie around her tiny shop, identifying the names of all the flowers and inviting her to smell their fragrances. Leonie told the vendor that she was about to take a trip to search for her life’s purpose. As the woman listened to her story, her eyes glistened and a whisper of a smile set upon her lips.

Before Leonie left, she held out a yellow rose. “This rose symbolizes our new friendship,” she said. “Friends are one of the most precious treasures of your life. From now one, you and I are lifelong friends. I wish you success on your trip and hope that you find your version of life fulfillment.

That night, just before Leonie went to bed, she sat at her desk to write in her journal. I know what fulfills me, she wrote. After setting down her pen, she felt anxious. But I don’t know what fulfills me, she worried. I don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life. I don’t know what makes me happy day after day after day.

As she sat, she thought about the vendor in the green apron and how she had found fulfillment. She remembered how gently the woman had picked up each flower and described its characteristics. She had moved among her flowers with grace, touching each blossom with respect and admiration; her movements were filled with love.

Now Leonie knew. The woman had been a messenger from her own soul to teach her how to find her own purpose. Love was an integral part of finding fulfillment. When she found out what she loved, she would find her contentment.

Wisdom of the Trees: Chapter 2/3

Chapter 2 – Birch

During the last week of class, Profesora Casti took the class on field trips so the international students could experience the culture of Buenos Aires.

On Monday, the class walked to the Manzana de Las Luces. Profesora Casti explained that this was the Block of Enlightenment and contained some of the oldest buildings in Buenos Aires, including the Baroque church of San Ignacio, a church built by the Jesuits between 1686 and 1722.

The students listened as their instructor explained how the Jesuits also built a school, museum, and pharmacy on the site, and operated all of them until the Spanish came and suppressed the Jesuits. Since then, the site has been transformed into a university, cathedral, and Argentina’s first medical college. Later, the Spanish opened Buenos Aires’ first printing press and orphanage on the site, extending its colorful and diverse history.

What most fascinated Leonie was the warren of tunnels underneath the street, once used to store ammunition during Argentina’s fight for independence. The students followed each other single file through the narrow, brick tunnels, stooping their heads low under the arched ceilings. Here and there, the tunnels stopped, the entryways blocked by dirt and rocks from centuries of neglect. Utility lights lit up the corridors, and the lights created shadows on the walls that walked with them.

When they came outside again, the sunlight blinded Leonie, and she shielded her eyes with her arm, squinting and squeezing her eyes shut until they became adjusted to the brightness. The students sat down on stone walls in the courtyard to rest.

Leonie sat next to an older woman who was wearing a straw hat and drinking out of a metal flask. Beside the woman leaned a walking stick, hewn out of white wood marled with yellow scars. Leonie had never seen a walking stick so beautiful and unusual.

“Are you wondering about my stick?” the woman asked suddenly.

Leonie looked down at the ground quickly, fluttering her eyelids. “Yes, I am,” responded Leonie. “It’s so unusual. What kind of wood is that?” She slowly raised her eyes to look at the stick and then noticed the woman’s smile.

“I carved this out of birch wood when I was about your age, a wood that signifies new beginnings. I can see that you are about to start a long journey, one that will give you a new beginning and help you find out your life’s purpose.”

Leonie opened her eyes wide and stared into the woman’s face. “How did you know that I was going on a journey? How did you know I was searching for my purpose in life?”

“I am an old soul, and old souls can read energy. From your energy, I can see that you have suffered a great loss, but this loss will help you gain wisdom and strength, and, in the end, the loss will become your constant companion.”

“My mother died, and I miss her terribly.” Leonie sank onto the rock perch, remembering the last time she saw her mother’s face. Her mother had been beautiful, even when she suffered from the cancer. Her face always glowed with an even sunny complexion, and her smile lit up her eyes like emeralds under a jeweler’s lamp light.

“The first thing you need to do is to write down your affirmations,” said the old woman, rustling her wide skirts as she turned more to face Leonie. “Whatever you wish to have, write it down like your already have it.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Leonie scratched the back of her head.

“An affirmation is a positive assertion that claims something is true. When you put forth a personal affirmation, all of creation conspires to help you attain it.”

“That sounds very interesting,” said Leonie, “but my father wants me to go home right after I finish this Spanish class. I keep thinking I should stay here longer so I can find out what to do with the rest of my life.”

“You must learn how to believe in yourself and not to rely on the opinions of anyone else. Your father cares for you, but your life is not his. You must follow your own heart, or you will feel like you are not living.” The woman stuck one of her tanned hands into the folds of her skirt and took out a small book, about the size of Leonie’s cell phone.

“This is a gift from me. Inside this journal are blank pages. Today, start writing down your affirmations, and then your life and fulfillment will begin.” The woman smiled at Leonie just as the sun poked through the branches of an oak tree. Leonie had to close her eyes it was so bright, and when she opened them, the woman with the birch walking stick was gone.

That night, Leonie sat up in bed, the journal opened before her, a pen in her hand. She wrote—I want to make a difference. No, that wasn’t right. The old woman had told her to write as if what she wanted was already true. She put a line through the sentence and tried again—I am making a difference, she wrote.

Pressing the journal to her chest, she leaned back to see if she felt better. No. She still felt like she hadn’t a clue of what to do or how she could contribute to the world.

Contribute—a good word, she thought. She wrote another sentence underneath the first one—I am contributing something positive to the world. Now she felt a little better. The way she would make a difference would be by contributing something positive. She didn’t know what that was yet, but she was determined to find out.

Leonie placed the journal and pen on her nightstand, turned out the lamp, laid her head on her pillow, and fell asleep with a feint smile on her face.

Chapter 3 – Myrtle

On Wednesday, Profesora Casti took the class to Iglesia de Santa Felicitas on Calle Isabel la Catolica in the Barracas District. The students learned that this church was built in the early nineteenth century in honor of Felicia Antonia Guadalupe Guerrero, considered to be the most beautiful woman in Buenos Aires. Her husband died from yellow fever, leaving her a widow. Later, she was killed by her rejected suitor, Enrique Ocampo.

Leonie walked through the eclectic gothic interior of the church, gazing into the faces of the marble statues of Felicitas and her son and husband. Around the perimeter of the church, she paused in front of the stained-glass windows, looking into the faces of the saints and admiring the colors of the roses. She was so intrigued by how the natural light lit up the panes of glass that she didn’t see the young girl until she bumped into her.

“I’m sorry, said Leonie. I didn’t see you there. I was so interested in these beautiful windows.”

The girl didn’t respond. She seemed lost in thought and sad.

“Are you o.k.?” asked Leonie. She gently touched the girl on her wrist, which she noticed was tied with a long, red ribbon.

The girl was about the same age as Leonie. She had long brown hair, big brown eyes, full lashes, and a mouth that was wide and voluptuous. Leonie thought she was beautiful.

The girl looked at her. “Oh, I was lost in thought.” Her eyelashes scanned Leonie from head to toe, and then she smiled. “Are you a student at the university?”

“Yes, I am. I’m on a field trip with my Spanish professor. This is the last week of classes, and we’re touring around Buenos Aires to learn more about the Argentine culture. May I ask you why you are here?”

“I’m looking for love,” said the girl, waving her wrist in front of her.

“I don’t understand,” responded Leonie.

“We have a tradition. If a girl wants love, she comes to the cathedral and ties a ribbon on a branch of the myrtle tree in the garden, which symbolizes romantic and devoted love. Soon, she will find a love that will be true and lasting.”

“What a nice tradition.” Leonie smiled at the girl.

“Did your professor tell you that this church is haunted by its namesake?”

“No. What do you mean?”

“The woman for whom this church was built, Felicia, was murdered. She was shot in the back by her suitor and died on January 30. People say that on that day, a woman with a pale face and dark hair, dressed all in white, walks from the garden, opens the door to the church, proceeds down the aisle to the main altar and leaves a trail of tears behind her.

“That’s such a sad story.”

“Now, Felicia brings love to all the women who request it by tying their ribbons on the myrtle tree. She has turned her tragedy into positive deeds—bringing love to all women of her beloved city.”

“So, you are going to tie your ribbon on the gate?”

“Yes, to find my love.”

“May I help you?”

“I’d like that. Let’s go.”

The two girls walked out of the church together, smiling and chatting as they went. Once they reached outside, they walked through the roses in the garden until they reached the myrtle tree. The brown-eyed girl untied the ribbon from her wrist and, with Leonie’s help, tied it around one of the tree’s branches.

“Thank you for helping me,” said the girl. “I believe I will find my love even faster because of your kindness.”

“I was honored to share your dream,” said Leonie.

“Let’s tie a ribbon on the tree so you can find your love.”

“Oh, I’m not ready for love,” said Leonie.

“That doesn’t matter. Your love will arrive when you are ready. Here, I have another ribbon.” The girl pulled another red ribbon out of her pocket and handed it to Leonie.

Leonie raised her chin back and laughed which sounded like the rise and fall of a musical scale. “I guess it won’t hurt.” She chose another branch close to the girl’s ribbon and tied hers around it in a bow.

“I’m happy that you will find love too,” said the girl. The girl smiled at Leonie, placed her hands on her shoulders, and kissed her lightly on each cheek. Her eyes shone like topaz.

“I will never forget you,” said the girl, and she walked away, her skirts swishing gently from side to side.

That night, before Leonie fell asleep, she wrote in her book of affirmations. She wrote—I provide love to the world. She looked at the words that she had written and thought about the girl with the full lashes who wanted to find love.

I must first find out what I want, Leonie thought. Until I know who I am and what my purpose is, I won’t attract the right kind of love.

One thing I know. I know I can provide love to others. I’ll do this first and then, when the time is right, I’ll let someone love me.

She turned out the light and dreamt about the myrtle tree and its red ribbons.

Wisdom of the Trees: Chapter 1

Photo by DARIAN PRO on Unsplash

From ancient times, trees have symbolized physical and spiritual nourishment, transformation and liberation.

Chapter 1 – Oak

One more week and she was done. Graduated with a double major. College over. More educated than most of the people on earth.

And you know what? She wasn’t going back home, even when this class was over. Her father had paid for a round trip ticket to Buenos Aires, but she was going to cash it in and stay.

This was her chance to really be independent, to find out what her values were without her father’s advice about this job or that apartment, this guy or that outfit.

She missed her mother though, but her mother wasn’t at home anyway. When Leonie was supposed to be having the time of her life in college, her mother had contracted breast cancer. After three surgeries, six months of chemotherapy that sapped her effervescent energy, and twelve weeks of radiation that burned her skin red, the cancer came back.

Just before she passed away, Leonie and her mother had sat under the oak tree in the back yard, the shadows of its branches spreading like arms across the grass.

“I can’t lose you, Mom.” She had wept beside her mom, the shade of the giant tree darkening her tears like black pearls.

“You won’t feel the same, but you’ll never lose me. You’ll just have to learn how to live with me differently.”

Leonie had felt so confused. She stared at her mother’s face so that she could remember it—her gray-blue eyes, silky skin, a mouth that always held the hint of a smile. She stared deep into her eyes, holding on, wishing for more time.

“I’ll be with you,” said her mother. “I’ll guide you from a new place, a place you cannot see, but that is nevertheless powerful. You’ll feel me.”

Leonie clutched her mother’s hand.

“I want you to find your inner strength. Emulate this oak tree. Every time you feel weak or lost, visualize yourself as an oak tree, rising strong, spreading wide, enduring challenge and finding the sun. You won’t be alone because I’ll be beside you, breathing my love into your heart.”

“But I won’t see you. You’re my inspiration. I’ll be lost without you.”

“My love will remain here. When you can no longer physically see me, you can find other women to inspire you. Choose many, in fact. One to follow for leadership skills, another to learn the art of love, and another to learn how to live with joy. She may be one of your professors, a co-worker, a girl friend, a friend’s mother, or a woman you meet only one time in your life. Whatever you wish to be, you can find a woman to inspire you.”

“How can you be so strong? You’re dying!”

“I’m content because I know that I will continue my life in another form. My spirit is not dying. My soul will continue, and I’ll grow from its future experiences. I have many things to look forward to.”

Leonie remembered this conversation as she held her mother’s ashes six months later, secured in a pearlescent urn shaped like a heart. Leonie kissed the top of the urn before placing it in the niche at the cemetery. “Enjoy your journey, Mom,” she whispered.

Later, as she sat in the back yard next to her mother’s chair, Leonie thought she heard her mother’s voice. No, maybe it was the breeze rustling the limbs of the oak tree instead.

“My journey will be right alongside you,” said the breeze.

Staying focused on her studies was impossible after her mother’s death, but her girl friends had helped, and then Leonie decided to go overseas for a change of scenery—a much needed distraction that she needed to survive.

So now, she was in Buenos Aires and hungry. She lived in a shabby dorm room in the basement of the university and tutored students in English to make money, but it wasn’t enough.

Leonie searched through her backpack for something to eat: an empty plastic juice bottle, a paper envelope from the bocadillo she had for lunch. She poked her fingers deeper. Something waxy. She grabbed at it and pulled out an apple, a little bruised, but it was food.

The next morning, Leonie woke up with a growling stomach and the sound of traffic. Engines racing, horns blaring, and brakes squealing invaded her tiny room through the high window that wasn’t even big enough for her to crawl through. Leonie grabbed her shampoo and towel, opened the door, and paced to the single shower room.

Whew! It was empty. The water felt refreshing on her wet head, rinsing off the humidity and sweat of her body from the sweltering night.

Today, she was going to meet a friend that she had met in her Spanish class. Clarissa was a native Argentinian and Leonie wanted to ask her about traveling throughout the country.

Upstairs in the dormitory lobby, a canister of coffee stood on a table next to a large blue box of sweet pastries. Leonie poured the thick, viscous liquid into her own mug, stuck a pastry between her teeth, and whisked out the door.

Clarissa was sitting at a table in the corner of the café with her laptop open when she arrived. A cup of mate steamed to the right of her computer, Clarissa wildly typing on the keyboard.

“Hey, how’s it going?” asked Leonie, grabbing the back of the chair opposite her, scraping it across the floor, flinging her backpack over a post, and sitting down.

“Hey,” murmured Clarissa, finishing a sentence.

“You know, this Spanish class is my last college class, and I’ve got to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. I feel lost without my mother, and I don’t want to go home without a plan. I don’t even know if I want to live there anymore.”

Clarissa picked up her mate, sipped it, and looked up at Leonie. “I suggest that you travel and meet as many people as possible. They’ll give you new ideas, and you’ll learn that you have endless options,” said Clarissa.

“That does sound good,” said Leonie. “How should I start?”

“Just go,” said Clarissa. “Don’t think too much. Don’t plan too much, but be ready to make your trip work each step of the way. I’m emailing my sister. She works at the Belmond Hotel, a few miles from Iguazu Falls. Maybe she can get you a free room. Iguazu Falls is one place you should go!”

“Oh, I’m so nervous about traveling by myself. Maybe I’ll just stay here,” responded Leonie.

“Oh, no you won’t,” said Clarissa. “You’re going, and that’s that.”

“We’ll see,” said Leonie. I have a whole week of classes left.”

“Yes, a whole week to build up your courage and begin your new life.”