Once, when I was thirteen, I brought a friend home. She saw me pluck a leaf from the bush and chew it thoughtfully. "What are you doing?" she asked, horrified. "That could be poisonous."
The girl declined. But I understood. Not everyone gets to taste a mother's bush. Not everyone has a mother who shows them that the wild, overlooked things are often the most worth savoring. tasting mothers bush
I was seven the first time she told me to taste it. Once, when I was thirteen, I brought a friend home