My Garden

Fiction By Damaris Ann // 9/4/2016

Let me show you my garden, so you may understand why I love it as much as I do.
Here, on this ornate bench beneath the cascade of Rose vines, my heart first opened up to love. The hand that turned back the petals and revealed the heart was the hand that put this ring on my finger.
Here, under the boughs of these cherry blossoms, I learnt that this Love must die a young death.
'Twas walking between the rows of gardenias here that my broken heart was healed.
Here, in the shade of this white birch tree I received this second ring, and here in the midst of these petunias the hand that put the ring on my finger crushed my heart. This was not a true love.
On this large stone near the lavender I sat and vowed to God that I would remain true to my faithless spouse.
I was walking between the red carnations here when I felt the first flutter of the child within my womb.
Here I sat when I first wore my mourning gown in honor of my faithless spouse. We had been married but a year when he hung himself.
'Twas under these apple blossoms that my daughter took her first toddling steps, and under this rose bush she hid when I thought I had lost her.
And here is my favorite place; my pale pink rhododendrons. I planted these last spring, right before my own little Rose was born. I sit here and smell the lovely fragrance while I read or hold Rose in my arms as she sleeps. Here is where I find my peace.
Many sad things have happened to me in this garden, but the joyful things far outweigh them. It's much like the garden of life. We walk on the path, we stray and stumble, we love, we break, we heal and love again. The garden changes with every season, but even in its change it is still a garden.
The love of God is constant, too. My garden reminds me of this daily.
I love this garden. I love this life. I love the God Who gave me this life to live inside my garden.

Navigation

User login

Please read this before creating a new account.