My coworkers refer to it as the Franken-plant since it bends in such odd contortions, seeking out a smidgen of light.

This plant. It�s a fighter.

When I first got it, there were several little red flowers sprinkled on top. After just one night in the office, they all fell out and never reappeared. Whenever a new branch or bud appeared, I always thought, �Maybe this will be the one!� After a few let-downs, I gave up. This is clearly not the plant�s way.

I once had a broken-English conversation with the Polish cleaning lady about my plant. She told me that when I�m gone for the day, she moves it to the window for light as she cleans the rest of the floor and checks if it needs water.

Just this past Friday I ran into her on the other side of the building, and she called me over to tell me it was her last day. Her mother was sick in Poland, and she was all her mother had left. I told her that I was sorry and that I wished her a safe travel.

When there�s something we don�t understand of the other, we give a confused look and the other mimes or tries to explain. Travel safely wasn�t something she knew, so I said, �Be careful.�

She was still confused, so I said, �Good luck.�

Her eyes filled as she told me that her daughter would go with her but that her son and husband would have to stay here. And she didn�t know if she�d ever get to come back.

The cleaning lady and I hugged as she cried. It was hard for me not to either, but I managed not to choke up too badly.

When she pulled it together a moment later, we just met eyes and nodded goodbye. No words needed.

So today I came into work to find the Franken-plant in its worst shape ever.

I really do hope she travels safely. �