A great favorite in Easter week. Enjoy!
I’m dedicating this story to the child within each of us.
**
My first garden had everything we children needed: tall trees with big outstretched arms, a wide stream and acres of fields to play in. All this stood beside and behind a tiny pink farmhouse where a mother and father and five children lived.
A pink farmhouse? Yes.
Seven people in a tiny pink house? How tiny?
Two bedrooms, two front rooms.
Must have been crowded, I hear you thinking.
But this was a land of mild temperatures and hot sun. Children spent many of their waking hours outside. Nature – the wildness of it, the near-danger of it, the freedom of it – was our garden. A child’s own garden.
It wasn’t until our family moved to our grandmother’s much larger house in a nearby village that the first memories of a flower garden — the kind…
View original post 518 more words
Cynthia Reyes 
A blessed Holy Week to you, Cynthia. Lovely to read this again, and to remember being 7 again. 🙂
I’m wishing you the same and thank you very much.
The child in me loves the magic of fairies in gardens.
Me too, Donna! Thanks for your lovely comment.
Sweet memories Cynthia. My fairy flowers are finally springing from the earth. Despite snow showers this weekend (and this morning) I think Spring is coming! Can’t wait to see how all the flowers I planted last year look.
I can imagine. Sweet anticipation for the first flowers of spring.
I love to have the child in me reawakened from time to time. This was a wonderful way to do that this week. Thanks, Cynthia! Hugs, N ❤ 🙂
Natalie, you are most welcome.
I enjoyed this so much. It makes me want to go back in time to when I was a little girl and re-live moments filled with this type of wonder.
Blessings,
Theresa
Me too, Theresa. Me too.
I wish you a wondrous Holy week.
I see no reason why fairies … and wood nymphs and elves, for that matter … were not dancing among your flowers when you were a child, and are in your garden now as well. But they’re quick! Keep a sharp eye out. 🙂
Jeanne
Thank you, dear Jeanne. I will have to keep a sharp eye out for them.