Ronald Weasley's Diary-Chp 5

CHAPTER FIVE: I MADE A FLOWER

“Come on, professor! We’re not babies anymore! This is high school!” Draco was complaining loudly again at our Arts teacher.

Today our Arts teacher, Prof. Trelawney gave us a red wrinkly paper and told us that we’re going to make a carnation as a present for our mothers on Mothers’ Day.

Prof. Trelawney glared at Draco and asked, “Being a high-schooler doesn’t mean you don’t have to honour your mother. Your mother wasted her life raising you!”

Draco didn’t say anything more. He lowered his head and cut hard on the paper with his pair of scissors.

I like Arts class. I took my pair of scissors and cut my piece of paper carefully. The idea is to cut sharp edges around them and tie them all up o make it into a shape of a flower.

But my paper did not become a flower but four pieces of torn paper. Prof. Trelawney walked to my class, took a look and said, “You’ve cut it the wrong way.”

Prof. Trelawney’s nice. She took my paper and helped me cut the way it should, then told me to tie it myself.

I tried to hold the paper stacked above each other like a sandwich and tie them up just like everyone else. They make it look so easy, but my paper felt rather weird. They just won’t stay where they should be.

“Ronald, come here. You hold and I’ll tie them for you,” Hermione came over to me with a piece of metal string in her hand.

My face was feeling quite warm when I held the paper and let her help me tie the metal string round and round my hand. She’s so pretty and so kind; I really wanted to invite her to my house for waffles and ask Mother to pour her three big spoonfuls of maple syrup.

But I didn’t dare say a word. After tying it, she pulled and stretched and arranged a couple more and soon my paper became a nice big flower.

“You must give this flower to your mother, understand?” So saying, she taught me that once I handed the flower to Mother I must say “Happy Mothers’ Day”.

She told me to repeat it a few times, and after making sure that I’ve memorized it, she walked away.
Harry Scarface had finished his flower too. His was way bigger than mine, almost as big as a soup bowl. He didn’t have parents anymore—both of them went to Heaven—but he made it all the same. He said something about wanting to put them at his mother’s resting place. I know what ‘resting place’ means. It’s where people die and sleep under the ground for a very, very long time. That’s where Grandpa and Grandma sleep. Harry Scarface said, “My mother isn’t alive anymore, but I know she suffered a lot for me.”

I know what ‘suffer’ means too. It’s got something to do with crying.

He then said to me, “Your mother must have suffered a lot for you.”

I know she’d ‘suffered’ a lot. She cried a lot when I was younger, but I don’t remember for what though. She was always crying and crying and crying and finally stopped when I went to first grade. I still don’t remember what she was crying for.

After school, I held the flower in my hand and kept on memorizing, “Happy Mothers’ Day.” Draco passed by me and threw his flower into the trashcan.

He turned to look at me and said, “Hurry home and give that stinking flower to your mother, you retard, so that she can feed you some baby milk!”

Maybe he didn’t know that I don’t drink baby milk anymore. Now I eat waffles. Could it be that he had no mother? Why did he throw away the flower?

But I didn’t stop to ask him. If I say anything else I might forget the “Happy Mothers’ Day” that I’ve memorized.

Once I’m home, I saw Mother making waffles and three customers in the shop. I held out my paper flower to her and said, “Happy Mothers’ Day.”

Mother seemed shocked when she took the flower and put it in her apron pocket.

One of the customers said, “What a nice boy you have!”

“Oh, pish-posh! Just as long as he doesn’t aggravate me to death,” Mother replied, but she was smiling when she said that.

The next day I saw Mother’s apron gone all red. It was then I knew the paper’s colour came off and it dyed Mother’s apron into a mess of red. I told that to Mother, but she said, “Don’t worry about it, love.”

She took out the paper flower and stared at it for a while before putting it back into her pocket. And for the next few days, it stayed in her pocket.

Next time I’ll make her another flower.