Member-only story
I Watered My Plants
The Healing Power of Gardening
I watered my plants.
I’ve dreamed of having a beautiful, luscious garden since I read A Secret Garden at age nine. I lost count of how many times I reread it as a child. There was something so magical about Mary Lenox finding healing in bringing a decaying, forbidden garden back to life. She created a sanctuary for herself at the same time as a catalyst for found family and moving on from the life that she lost. In the story a little ten-year-old girl brings the worlds around her -her cousin’s, her uncle’s, and her own — back to life with a cheeky blue jay and fountains and fountains of roses. It was one of my favorite stories and rooted in me a deep love of plants.
Unfortunately, my attempts to grow things usually end in dried up, rotting stems crumbled inside a pot on my patio. My friends, being the supportive people they are, buy me succulents and other plants known for being hearty because they know I forget to water them. Still, the plants manage to die in my care. It breaks my heart, seeing what were once gorgeous thriving plants reduced to crisp dry stems once I take charge of them.
How can I create a sanctuary and healing for myself and those around me if I can’t keep a poor helpless plant alive?
