The Secret Garden

It's that "secret garden" season here when you go outside one day and notice that overnight, unlooked-for, there are green shoots and rosettes peeking out of the ground. Maybe it's because you haven't been paying attention, or more than likely, you've been leaving in a rush in the morning and coming home after dark. But once you notice a few tiny plants, you feel a little gush of Hope, seeing once again evidence of rebirth from death and you think how much you've missed it. 

Like Mary Lennox, you start looking for the signs of green. And you find them. And you start clearing away the dead brown leaves and sticks of last year, not realizing how hard you're working until you come back into the dim house and realize that the sun and wind and wet earth has done you more good than you've done the garden. And then maybe, you think, it's not the Hope that has been absent from the garden, but you.