A Secret Garden

A Secret Garden



It wasn’t the beauty of the garden that captivated her as much as it was the flood of memories that came rushing back. There were gardens that were more elaborate and bigger and yet there seemed to be a touch of magic in this place.
Being in her mid fifties she was wise enough to know that memories are, so often, viewed thorough rose-colored glasses. Sometimes viewing things through the eyes of a child causes a distorted view. Yet she was still amazed at how clear the memories seemed.
The small hole in the fence that she could squeeze through, the guard dogs that never bothered an eight year old little girl.
In the trailer court where she lived there were small patches of flowers, rose bushes and marigolds. Close by was the park where she played with her brothers. In the park were Elm, Sycamore, Oak and Maple trees. Trees so large that they seemed to touch the very heavens themselves.
But in her secret garden were flowers she had never seen before. Flowers of deep reds, purple, blues, yellow and orange. White Mums, Carnations, Black-eyed Susan’s, Daylilies and roses of red, yellow and white. Here in her secret garden were trees that were more her size. She recognized the small saplings of Oak and Maple. The young Elm trees that would become such stately trees gracing the front lawns of homes all over the area. She marveled at how big they would become. Some of the trees she saw were unknown to her as a child. She looked at the Christmas trees not knowing that they would grow to become Colorado Blue Spruce. She gazed upon the young weeping willows and thought how there limbs and leaves reminded her of tears. Once again not knowing that one day these young trees would grow to heights of forty, fifty, even eighty foot heights and grace the lawns of homes big and small offering shade to all that would allow their branches to envelope them.
There were only certain times she could come to her secret garden. In the evenings and on Sunday’s. In the fifties, when she grew up, evening time was family time and most business were closed. The Blue Laws kept most places of business closed on Sunday. Sunday was the Lord’s Day and a day for family to spend in Worship and becoming closer as a family.
Telling her Mother she was going out to play she would run to her secret garden every chance she had. Squeezing through the hole in the fence she would settle in for a day of fantasy. She would sit in the shade of the few big trees that were there and build sandcastles. Not those that are built from the sandy beaches of Daytona but those that are built in the fertile minds of eight year old little girls.
Here she felt safe. Safe from a changing world she couldn’t understand. Safe from the problems of childhood. Safe from the things that went on in her life that she was to young to understand.
It was here among the daylilies and roses that she dreamed of a life when she grew up. It was here that she dreamed of her future.
She would get married, to a Minister, have children and live in a real house. She would plant flowers everywhere. Roses of all different colors would gracefully climb trellises filling the air with their sweet smell. The grass would be so green and soft that her grandchildren would laugh as the blades of grass tickled their bare feet as they ran playing and enjoying life.
The memories of childhood all come rushing back as she rocks in her old wooden rocker.
She thinks of the turmoil as she married She married an auto mechanic.
She thinks of the devastation as she loses her twin boys to a miscarriage.
She thinks of the heartbreak when told she couldn’t have children.
It took thirteen years of marriage to get her first home. It was small and not really what she had pictured in her mind as a child, but it was a real house none the less.
All those dreams. The sandcastles that had been built as a child all washed away by the tides of life itself. It seemed as if all those flowers in the secret garden had wilted as a delicate flower in the heat of the afternoon sun. Surely the door to her secret garden was forever shut and locked.
Now she can laugh.
Now she is safe and secure
Now the door to her secret garden is standing wide open. Once locked from frustration, disappointment and fear it has been opened with love..
She looks at the other chair in her secret garden and smiles. Her husband will be home soon. After all this time she is still married to the same man. Well, not quite, he is a licensed and ordained Minister now with a legal, fully chartered ministry.
She looks at the family vegetable garden and marvels at how well it’s doing.
She was unable to have children, or was she?
Five or six years ago a young lady was brought into her life. Over a short period of time and so many things in common she had come to realize that they had become Mother and Daughter.
The young children and she had connected right away, with them quickly designating her a Grandma.
She marvels at how, when it seemed that all her dreams would be washed away, she has realized more that many ever will. She has her husband, her daughter, her grandchildren. She has her home flowers and roses. But most precious of all is she has her secret garden.
The garden area isn’t quite done yet, there are still picket fences that need to be put up and then of course the arbor. Her husband told her he was going to put a heart shaped door on the arbor for her.
You know, as she sits in her garden she realizes that a door is no longer needed. It has been removed with love. Never again will I lock the door to my secret garden, she says aloud, those that I love and cherish are all welcome.
I know these things because I am her husband. We have been married for thirty-two years as I write this and I must admit that I wasn’t always a husband. There were times when I was strictly the man she was married to. But through the grace of God I became the man she dreamed of in that secret garden so many years ago.
The garden she now has was built out of love. Built out of a desire to give her something special from me.
But I now realize that though it was a labor of love it was also one of those lessons in life that God seems to wish to teach all men.
I guess all women have a secret garden. That place where the seeds of dreams and desires are planted.
I’m not real sure what it takes for any woman to realize the dreams of her childhood. Her inner most desires. Is it faith? Perhaps it’s strictly believing. I’m not sure. Is it possible that some women are destined to never realize their dreams?
We look at our daughter and grandchildren. A daughter and grandchildren that were brought about through the Love of God. I look at the many blessings in my life and realize that yes I do know the answer.
Dreams are realized by the things we do for others, not for ourselves.
Dreams are brought about through our love of others and our desire to help them, nurture them and lift them up.
Dreams are realized by trusting in God.