Angelfish

The family had owned many fish throughout time. Betta fish, goldfish, cichlids, all sorts of fish. And it had reached a point when they were introducing a new fish tank into the family; it was a birthday gift for the daughter.

“I like this gravel,” the young girl said, pointing out the bag of substrate that had caught her eye.

Her mother pulled out a different bag, “I like this one more though,” and she put it into the cart.

Not long later, the young one looked into a plant-filled aquarium and said, “I want some of these for my tank.”

“No,” her mother told her, “those make the tank dirtier faster, and besides, the plastic ones are prettier anyway.”

Too happy about owning an aquarium of her own, and understanding she was not the one spending money on this gift, the daughter did not argue. Besides, she did get to pick out one or two of the decorations for the tank.

The daughter helped with great excitement to set up her new fish tank. Days passed as the environment within the glass panels stabilized until it was ready for the introduction of the gilled inhabitants.

The girl ran to the tank she knew the best, her favorite of them all: the angelfish.

“These are my favorite fish!” she excitedly told her mother.

The employee, prepared to catch and bag fish for the customers, commented, “Those can be difficult to keep.”

“That’s okay,” the girl insisted, “we can take care of them.”

“I don’t like them though,” the mother said, “let’s get some guppies and shrimp instead.”

Disheartened, but accepting, the girl picked the guppies she liked best. And when asked which other fish she wanted, she pointed to a school of silver and black fish, “Let’s get a couple mollies.”

The mother eyed the fish for a moment before shaking her head, “No, let’s get some tetras.”

The employee explained, “These tetras stress very easily, so be sure to be careful with them.”

Three little blue and red fish swam in the bag with the guppies and ghost shrimp. The daughter was happy her aquarium would now be a home, but she could not help but glance back at the angelfish as they headed to the register.

The girl spent much time gazing at her tank, mesmerized by the water and beings it held. The guppies seemed to always be making more of themselves, and it was enjoyable to watch the fish grow from birth and cycle through life. The shrimp could be entertaining, sometimes getting caught, almost seeming to ride in, sprays of bubbles. And the tetras, the girl would often remember what she had been told about the tetras—they were fish who stressed easily—and likened herself to them.

So easily overwhelmed, so easily sickened with stress.

Although the child adored her fish tank she could not help but plan. She would sit and think about the fish she would one day own, namely, angelfish. Maybe a couple mollies, probably a shark of some sort. But certainly angelfish. The delicate beauties remained a beloved fish to her.

One day, through some illogical sort of reasoning, an angelfish was brought home from the pet store and placed into the fish tank. The moment was bittersweet. The daughter appreciated the gesture and loved her new fish more than the others, but she knew what had been done was a mistake. The angelfish could not live with their established community. The water needed to be a tad different, the fish of different species than as they were.

But she tried. She tried and hoped and did all within her power to keep that angelfish alive. However, it was a tricky balance to strike, maintaining such different fish, if it could have been possible at all. No matter how much she wanted the angelfish to survive, she did not want to hurt the other fish.

The guppies and tetras and shrimp had done nothing wrong. Why should they be punished for the new angelfish? It wouldn’t be fair to expect the established community to adjust all for one fish. And she couldn’t bring herself to be so drastic anyway; how could she harm the old fish just to make the angelfish happiest?

The angelfish was her favorite. Yet, she knew it should have never been brought to her home and put in her tank. She knew it did not belong with the community. It was doomed from the start.

“Oh, the angelfish died?”

“Yes, it seems she was just too fragile for our aquarium.”