Originally written March 2022
I heard about the miracle berry plant from a friend.
Apparently, if you eat the berry before drinking unsweetened coffee, it can make sour or unsweetened things taste sweet.
Naturally, I became interested. 
Especially because Graeme has a sweet tooth and was trying to reduce his sugar intake. I imagined having this wonderful little plant producing berries on the balcony, and Graeme happily drinking his coffee without sugar.
Then I saw one advertised on Marketplace.
The seller had one-year-old plants for $5 each, and I was planning to buy three. But he talked me into buying his four-year-old mature plant instead for $15.
Four years old.
Mature.
Excellent, I thought. Surely it wouldn’t be long before we had berries.
I was working on the agreed pick-up day, so I sent Graeme to collect it.
All day at work I was thinking about my miracle plant and all the wonderful things it might eventually do.
When I came home, I looked around the balcony.
No new plant.
I looked again.
Still no plant.
By this point I was getting annoyed with Graeme, thinking he had either forgotten to collect it or left it in the car.
So, in a slightly less-than-loving tone, I asked:
“Where’s the plant?”
Graeme pointed to a plastic bag sitting on the kitchen bench.
Inside was a four-centimetre twig with four small leaves.
Apparently, this was my four-year-old mature plant. 
That was six months ago.
It is still a twig.
It still has approximately the same number of leaves.
And I am still waiting for berries.
At this stage, I think the real miracle will be if I manage to keep the thing alive. 
Stories Along the Way 