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My Dear Raspberry...

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I see you daily through my window. I don´t know where you came from, but I adore you. You always have tons of raspberries shining on your leaves; you went from a seed to a flower to become a fresh fruit. When the alarm sounds at 8:30 a.m., I go to the garden to say hello and to collect some of your delicious gifts. I eat them every day with yogurt, cereal, and honey. I fill a bowl, sometimes two, every morning, when the sun is not yet burning but warms the cold of the night.

"Thank you", I whisper while gently taking the harvest to my orange bowl. I try not to squeeze them and to be careful, though it´s hard; your thorns collide with my hands and arms, you are hurting me, scratching me! Now they are red and wounded. Are you fighting against me? I thought we were friends, I´m the one who protects you from the worms and the plague, but I think I misunderstood your kindness.
Tell me oh, raspberry: who is worthy of taking away what you love the most?

For now, I have finished. My dad´s calling me, and my mom and sister are waiting for me to take them your arduous work for us to enjoy. I´m sorry. But if it helps, today I see not only how your beautiful flowers blossom to become a berry, but the broken heart of a mom whose children are about to go. I will give my best to see this from now on, and I will try to give more instead of receiving; especially with you: My dear raspberry.

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