Money Plant
An essay about a plant that fascinated a boy in a boarding school and crossed countries with him
I fell in love with a money plant vine when I was in a boarding school at twelve.
Adjoining the boarding house was a beautiful, curated garden. Every day, from the dormitory on the third floor, I looked down at the garden marvelling at its sight. It had flower beds, grapevines, many tropical plants and tall coconut trees. It was a beautiful mini orchard. It was alive with myriad birds who took shelter in it.
But what took my attention was the huge money plant vines that had clambered up the trunk of a coconut tree. The plant had large green and yellow leaves almost to the top of the coconut tree.
Once a week, for one hour on Fridays, boarders were tasked to help clean indoors and do garden maintenance. I loved working in the garden with my friends. Between my work, mired the garden’. Most of my attention was on the money plant vines. The enormity of the huge leaves and the height of the vines took my boyhood wonder to another level. I felt happy just looking at this beautiful sight in awe.
I had never owned a plant in my life before. The only thing I had been close to owning and caring for plants was helping my father water the flowerpots and croton plants in our garden. I wanted a money plant to grow in my own home. I wanted one of my own. In my home, in our front yard, we had a coconut tree in the middle of the two-way driveway. I kept imagining what a money plant vine would look like on that tree in front of our home.
Just before I left the boarding school for the school holidays at the end of term, I cut a small stem from the huge vine without anyone noticing it. I packed it in my Ford suitcase with my clothes and came home.
The first thing I did when I came home was to plant the stem at the foot of the coconut tree in our front yard. When I bathed at our open family well, I made it a point to carry a bucket of water and pour it onto the budding plant. With my constant supervision, during a month of school holidays, the plant had grown a few tiny buds and leaves. I tied a husk rope around the growing plant to bind it to the coconut tree.
Back in the boarding during the next school term, every time I looked at the huge vines on the coconut trees, my mind was on the tiny plant that was taking root in my garden at home.
When I went home for the next school holidays, the tiny stem and budding leaves had grown to about a couple of feet high. The leaves were much bigger. My money plant had dearly embraced the coconut tree. The husked rope had fallen by the foot of the coconut tree, having done its job to embed the plant onto the tree.
During that school holiday, I did not have to water the money plant regularly. It was becoming a healthy plant and was growing by the day on its own without my intervention. Every day, I sat on my veranda and admired my new creation taking shape in front of my home. I was proud of what I had achieved.
From then on, the money plant symbolised my growing boyhood. At every school holiday, it grew by a couple of feet with no effort from me. The green and yellow leaves became bigger and bigger.
When I was about fifteen, the leaves were nearly a foot long. It was as if the money plant was prompting and egging me to grow up. When I left the boarding school and came home, the money plant became my plant emblem and logo. I was immensely proud of my money plant, the only plant I nursed from its origins.
When I was seventeen and was attending university college, my beloved money plant was taller than me. It was growing by the day. I removed a stem from the emerging vine and planted it on another coconut tree beside our family’s water well. We had many coconut trees in our large garden, possibly over thirty. The new money plant near the well grew faster than its elder sibling.
As I grew, I did not have to do any maintenance on my money plants. They kept growing and continued to be the crowning glories in our vast garden.
I left Sri Lanka for Dubai as a young man chasing dreams. Back then, Dubai was all sand, no green. But those money plants at home… they were my lifeline. Every trip back, seeing them thrive — that was pure joy. A little piece of home that kept me going. Those short holidays, surrounded by my plants, family, and friends , were the best times.
I took a step further, repeating my past actions when I was twelve, now almost a decade later. I cut a stem from the money plant and took it back to Dubai, packed with my clothes in my Delsey luggage. I nursed the plant with water and grew it in my apartment. Then, I planted it in a pot and kept it on my bedside. The plant adjusted to an indoor setting quickly. The stems and leaves were now small. The reborn plant was a great reminder of my carefree days in Sri Lanka growing up.
That’s how a boy’s wonder about a huge plant became a nourishing guide to him in his formative youth.
The story was inspired by Jonny Sun’s Goodbye Again.
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