Me and my brother and other friends always threw rocks at her flowers to annoy her and ruin the perfect beauty in the imperfect picture of ugliness. We never like those flowers. I don't know why, i suppose it's because they are so gorgoues.
You kids again! You best git!
I had just had it one night. Everything was just wrong and didn't make since. So i decided to go to the one thing that didn't make the most since and i ruined it. It was at that moment i realized what was happening, I was feeling compassion, i was entering adulthood and leaving childhood
Lizabeth! Please stop!
I- I- I'm sorry! I don't know what to think!
I had realized that that was the beginning of compassion, and one cannot have both compassion and innocence. After that night the old woman never planted marigolds again. Ever. I had never felt such shame. And now i too have planted marigolds.