Marigolds

By Eugenia Collier
1969

Plot
Describe how Miss Lottie reacts to the events in “Marigolds.” Use active voice.
Remember - you are telling the story from Ms. Lottie’s Point of view. You will use the basic plot from the original story, but change it to Ms. Lottie’s POV.

Exposition:
Establish the setting (time, place, etc.), mood, characters, etc.
What is Ms. Lottie doing that day?
How is she feeling?
What is going on in her life?

1 answer

Point of View: Miss Lottie’s Perspective in "Marigolds"

Exposition:

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the small, worn-out house on the outskirts of town. Dust devils swirl lazily in the late summer air, swirling the remnants of dried grass and a few stubborn weeds. I stand in my yard, surrounded by the dust-bowl that seems to echo my own struggle against life’s encroachments. I am Miss Lottie, a woman of humble means and aspirations, living in a world that often feels heavy on my shoulders.

Today, I have a heavy heart as I prepare to tend to my marigolds. They’ve always been my pride and joy, a vibrant burst of color amid the drabness of this neighborhood. I remember when I planted them, hoping to bring a bit of beauty to a desolate place. Yet, my heart feels the weight of loneliness as I work among the blooms, their bright faces daring to rise above the grayness that surrounds them.

As I kneel in the dirt, I can’t help but feel a mixture of sadness and defiance. The children from the neighborhood often play nearby, their laughter reminding me of happier days, but their eyes also reflect something harsher—those looks of disdain I sometimes receive cut deeper than any soil I dig. I have seen them peering at me, whispering about my marigolds, mocking my efforts to bring color to this life. Yet still, I nurture my plants, clinging to the hope they offer. I crave their beauty, their resilience, as much as I crave the acknowledgment that often eludes me.

In my heart, I know these children do not understand—the struggles, the dreams that withered over time. They see only an old woman lost in her fantasies, and perhaps I am, but I still hold on to the belief that something beautiful can emerge, even in the dust and despair. As I carefully water my marigolds today, my resolve strengthens; they symbolize hope and defiance in a world that too often forgets to look beyond the surface. I feel alive as I nurture their vibrant petals, a promise to myself that no matter the hardships, I will continue to strive for something beautiful.