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Memoirs: My great, true, personal garden story

When the sun shines down just right through the tall trees casting sparkles of light among the cool dark woods, and the mourning doves are cooing, I am transported back in time. It's then that I remember hot summer days in a small North Carolina town where I came to understand and love the wonders of my granddaddy's gardens.

Granddaddy was a master gardener, with his own landscaping business and nursery, but I didn't know that then. All I knew was that he created the most spectacular flower beds filled with brightly colored blossoms of all kinds. Being a very little girl, I never realized the beautiful blooms didn't magically appear. Too me, he was an amazing magician, creating beauty where none had been. But it was my beloved Grandmomie who taught me to look for the little things that make a garden special.

Every morning while the leaves were still touched with droplets of dew, Grandmomie and I would go outside to check the many flower beds. If I was especially good, I could choose which of the charming dainty pansy faces would grace the coffee table in Grandmomie's living room. "Would you like to pick some pansies?" she'd ask. Only the most special things were there, so it was important to choose wisely.

"Should I pick the ones tinged with purple and burgundy or the ones with yellow and lavender?" I wondered. It was a huge responsibility for such a small girl.

If I took too long, Grandmomie would say, "There's a pretty one. Why don't you pick that one?"

Then with a fistful of the delicate pansies, we'd go inside to put them in water. It was my treat to arrange them in their decorative glass.

Snails were another hidden wonder of the garden. Grandmomie and I spent many moments watching the garden snails slowly move under the leaves and blooms. She explained, "Look! See the silver trail. The snail leaves it behind him as he moves from place to place." I understood moving because my Daddy was away in the military.

"See how the little snails carry their little house on their back?" Under her tutelage, snails became more than just a garden pest. I was totally amazed that they never had to pack or leave behind favorite things. They just carried everything with them! How I loved these dear little creatures with their house on their back.

Some mornings I was assigned the special task of bringing snails from the garden. For each one, I would earn a nickel. Later, with my small collection of nickels tucked safely away in my purse, Grandmomie


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