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I never knew gardens could heal, until I remarried and moved to the United Kingdom. Gardens are very small in England, but with some imagination you can see these grassy or rocky areas, as a room or even another world.

My new garden was a typical garden space created, by an Englishman, with pea gravel, no grass, and statues in the wrong place. A tremendous amount of effort had been made, but it needed a woman's touch, and some perspective, to become that healing place we both needed.

The first order, of business, was to move the two statues to a more personal place of their own. The male statue was Kenneth the keeper of the scroll, and the second statue was a female Greek water carrier.

Placing the larger male statue in the back of the garden, created an individual space for him, and gave the garden depth. The female was dressed a bit more seductively, so I placed chimes and a bird bath at her feet, to give another attitude in the garden.

I didn't realize how important that garden would become until I spent time there, day after day. My husband would go to work in the mornings, and I would busy myself in the garden. Staying busy was important, for I had started a new life, in a new country. I had moved far away from my two daughters, and family members, and I desperately needed this time to heal, from past hurts.

Gardening became a time for kneeling, planting, and spending time with God, which encouraged me to think, and reflect about many things. The garden was also the place to hang out the laundry, even on cloudy days. It didn't rain as much as folks think, it just looked liked it was going to rain.

My husband and I were never alone in the garden, our neighbors were always just a window away, and the fences were short. One neighbor raised guinea pigs, and she used them to mow her garden. She was a nurse and didn't spend much time, in her garden.

Strange now, but I guess her little pig-mowers were a help, in my healing also. They were oblivious to others watching them, even Charlie the white cat, who thought no one could see her, didn't disturb the wee lawn mowers.

When the garden became a friendlier place to visit we put up bird feeders, and invited new friends to the garden, and they came. The tiny sparrows were excited as they lined up on the fence, waiting their turn on the feeder. The starling gang fought and wrestled with the fat snacks we rolled to them, always acting like bullies, but they were really sissies.

The wood pigeons were polite when they came to

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