The Magic Garden
by Heather White

(Part 1)

Once a long time ago in a kingdom not so far from here there was a widow, Roslyn, who loved her young child more than anything else in the world. The little girl had grown without the ability to walk or talk, causing great sorrow in the mother’s heart. She longed to see her precious Lily dance and play, or hear the sweet cadence of her laughter fill the empty and echoing halls of their home. For eight years, Roslyn searched the entire kingdom for remedies and cures, bringing in the expertise of physicians, magicians, and witches, for her husband had left them amply provided for. But no matter how hopeful she was about each new remedy, she was continually disappointed, for nothing could cure her child.

One day Roslyn pulled the little girl in her wooden cart down a path through the woods, in search of wild herbs for a healing remedy. She happened upon a strange door, covered in vines so thick she was only just able to make out a rusty door handle. Curious, she approached the door, reaching out her hand tentatively to touch the intricately scrolled metal work of a large key which was resting inside the keyhole. It looked so old and out of use that she did not expect to be able to open the door. To her surprise, the key turned easily, and with a gentle click the door latch was released. A strange tingling thrill went down the woman’s spine as the door swung open, releasing a fresh sprinkling of dew drops into her hair from the greenery growing around the encasement. There was a sudden rush of sweet air that swept from the open doorway, temporarily taking her breath away. The smell was exotic, like jasmine, begonia, and cinnamon. Roslyn could not resist peeking through the door to see what could possibly be on the other side. What she saw there was more than she could have even imagined.

On the other side of the hidden door was a lush, green garden. Strange trees that Roslyn could not identify were bunched together in groups, which seemed to sing as they swayed in the gentle breeze. Other trees grew in dense formation next to the vine-covered exterior wall, which seemed to extend a great deal in the distance. Ferns and flowers carpeted the thick grass, creating swirling pathways which were dotted with tiny twinkling lights. The trickle of a creek meandered from deeper inside the garden, dancing over rocks and boulders and splashing into a glistening pond. Around the edges of the pond were more groupings of flowers in vibrant colors, reds, purples, and yellows. The plants cascaded over large, flat stones and dipped their brightly-hued petals into the cool of the water.   

Was she dreaming? Roslyn could not imagine how such a place could exist. Gently she stepped inside the garden and could not resist brushing her finger along the length of a silky leaf, heavy with the morning dew. It released a scent that was pungent and green, making Roslyn feel a little dizzy. But suddenly the dizziness passed and in its place she felt a surge of strength and vigor. The tension that continually plagued Roslyn’s shoulders and back was suddenly relieved and her mind was clear. Everything in her seemed to awaken. She clearly heard the fluttering of butterfly wings and the gentle chirp of insects calling to each other in the garden. She could see the tiniest flecks of gold on the petals of the flowers by the pond. And she could feel the pounding sensation of her blood pumping throughout her body, branching through the intricate workings under her skin.

This garden was magic. Roslyn knew it almost immediately. If the garden could make her feel so alive and strong, she could only imagine what it could do for Lily. Roslyn spun around and, leaving the cart at the door, carried her child into the garden.

Lily inhaled a sharp breath of surprise as her mother carried her further into the lush garden. Her huge, doe-like eyes seemed to try to take everything in at once as she looked around at the impossibly vibrant hues and textures that surrounded her. Roslyn helped the girl brush her fingers along leaves and flowers as they passed, encouraging her to inhale deeply and take in the exotic scent. The girl instinctively obeyed, filling her lungs with breath after breath until finally a sigh escaped her lips.

Roslyn was so surprised to hear any sound pass through her daughter’s lips that she nearly tripped. For eight years she had longed to hear her little girl’s voice. Was her wait over at last? Gently easing the girl onto a stone by the edge of the pond, she asked her hopefully, “Lily, how do you feel?”

“Oh, Mother!” was the child’s first uttered words. Tears of joy poured from Roslyn’s eyes as she embraced her daughter, savoring the sound of her voice.

Finally pulling herself away, Roslyn looked at the pond and said, “Here, let’s try this.”

Roslyn tentatively dipped a hand into the cool water of the pond. It felt tingly and crisp. After waiting a moment to test how it felt, she then dribbled a cool stream of the water down the length of her daughter’s tiny legs. Lily gasped in surprise at the coolness of the water, but a smile gradually slipped onto her perfect little pink lips. In a slow, cautious motion, Lily stretched her legs out in front of her, wiggling her feet in careful circles. Then, without even looking up once for support, she pushed her small frame up onto her feet, standing on her own accord for the first time in her life.

Mother and daughter were elated with happiness, wondering at the magic of the garden. Roslyn could not stop laughing and crying, watching her daughter dance and spin on the thick grass and listening to her sing at the top of her lungs.

Finally it began to grow dark. Roslyn decided it was time to return home, and was excited to tell everyone of the miraculous transformation of her daughter. She knew that her sister Nona would be especially pleased, as she was quite close to the girl. Lily skipped ahead of her and reached the outer door first, swinging it open with a spirited pull. Suddenly she stopped, however. The moment her little slippered foot stepped outside of the threshold, her entire body collapsed, leaving her crumpled on the forest floor.

Roslyn ran to her daughter’s side, terrified of what might have happened. Lily lay quite still, her hair full of leaves and twigs. A single tear slid down her cheek.

“Are you hurt, my child?” Roslyn cried, as she folded her daughter into her arms. Lily opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Her face crumpled and her body shook with a heart-wrenching silent sob.

“The magic must only work inside these walls,” Roslyn said sadly. Lifting her daughter in her arms, she placed her back in her wooden cart and made the slow journey back home.

The next day, Roslyn brought Lily back to the garden door. Just as before, the key turned effortlessly and the door swung open. Roslyn carried her daughter into the garden once more, dribbling the cool, clear water of the pond over her tiny legs. Once again, Lily was able to speak and dance and play. And once again, the moment they passed the threshold of the garden, the child’s ailments returned.

On the third day, mother and child returned, eager to enjoy the magic of the garden. Her now familiar ritual was performed, and Lily spent the day playing in the sunshine and making up stories for the family of mice she had found under one of the hedges. Then, as the sun was beginning to set, a small woman stepped from behind one of the ferns, appearing as if from thin air.

She was a faery, beautiful and tiny, only barely taller than Lily herself. Her long hair lay in a silver braid down her back, and she wore a gauzy white gown which swept the grass as she walked. Tiny lights sparkled in her hair and on her skirt, giving the faery a celestial glow about her.

Roslyn stood respectfully and called for Lily. Her daughter came running to her, hiding behind her skirts.

The faery approached them, neither her bare feet or gown making any sound as she moved. Roslyn could not guess what possible age she was. Although her face was young and beautiful, her hair shone white and her deep sapphire eyes looked ancient and wise. As she drew closer Roslyn could see that the sparkling lights in the woman’s hair and around her dress were actually tiny winged creatures: pixies, she guessed.

Roslyn made a respectful curtsy, begging forgiveness for intruding in the faery’s garden. In her heart she knew that the discovery of the garden had been too good to last, and that magic this special must belong somewhere mysterious and hidden. She guessed that the faery would send her away, and her heart broke over the devastation of seeing her child crippled and mute once more.

Finally the faery spoke. Her voice was low and melodic, almost hypnotizing.

“For three days you have enjoyed the beauty of my garden. You have touched my blossoms and dipped into the living waters.”

“I am sorry, madam,” Roslyn repeated, “I had no intention of intruding on your beautiful garden. My daughter, you see, is whole when we are within these walls. The moment her foot passes the threshold she is returned to her natural self, unable to walk or talk. I would do anything to see her whole again.”

At this, she dropped her head and covered her face in her hands, letting out a sob that wrenched her soul.

The faery looked at Lily, who was peeking out from behind her mother’s leg.

“Come here, child,” she beckoned, extending a slender hand toward the girl.

Lily obeyed, stepping forward and taking the offered hand. The faery pulled her close, then placed her hands on either side of the child’s face, looking deep into her eyes. She stood there for some time, until finally she seemed satisfied with what she saw.

Turning toward Roslyn, she said, “There is a way for the child to remain whole, even after crossing the threshold of the garden.”

Hope welled up within Roslyn’s chest. “Please, madam, tell me how,” she entreated desperately.

“There is no magic without a price,” the white faery answered, looking firmly in the mother’s eyes.

“I will do anything,” Roslyn said. The faery nodded.

“As long as the magic is contained within these walls, the effort to sustain itself is minimal. The magic is maintained almost instantaneously. However, in order to maintain its strength outside of these walls, there must be great work done from within this garden.”

Roslyn was confused. “What kind of work?” she asked.

“The garden must be cultivated and nourished, night and day. The living waters keeps the magic alive, allowing the magical plants to flourish.”

“But what does that mean? How can my daughter be healed, even after leaving this garden?”

“Someone must stay behind, my dear,” the faery answered softly. “Someone must stay and never leave, forever to cultivate and nourish the magic from within.”

Roslyn looked down at her daughter, whom she loved more than anything else. She would do anything for her.

“I will do anything,” she repeated solemnly, and meant it.


(Part 2)

Roslyn held her daughter close to her chest. She could feel the child’s heart beat like the fluttering of dragonfly wings. Could she really send her out in the world on her own? But what would her life be like, crippled and mute? Her choice was easy. Finally Roslyn released Lily and instructed her to go home and find her Aunt Nona. She would care for Lily as though she were her own.

Lily embraced her mother in return and promised to return the next day with her aunt. She was a bright child, and since she had been forced to observe the world without participating in it for her entire life, there was much that she had seen and heard, tucking her knowledge and experience deep within her heart.

As promised, Lily returned the following day, bringing Roslyn’s beloved sister with her. Nona was overcome with the mixed emotions of joy and heartache at seeing her niece healed and whole, while her sister was to remain a prisoner within the walls of this beautiful garden. She understood the sacrifice, however, and was more than willing to help in raising her sister’s child, for she had no children of her own and had never married.

Before Nona and her niece left that day, the white faery appeared again. Nona was filled with trepidation as she met the ethereal being, for she distrusted the use of magic and those who had powers of which she did not understand.

“You are welcome to visit your sister as often as you wish,” the faery addressed Nona in her serene manner, then turned to both women in turn. “But there is one thing which I have not yet explained.”

Roslyn and Nona looked at each other with concern.

“No one must know about this garden. The child will be permitted to leave whole and perfect, but only if the secret of our magic is kept safe. Tell another soul, and the spell on the child will be lifted and she will become as she once was.”

Nona swore to the faery that the mysteries of the garden would never be revealed. The white faery made a slight bow of her head, accepting the woman’s oath.


**********

Nona brought the young girl back to the magic garden every few days to visit with her mother. Although Roslyn’s heart broke every time she said her good-byes, she never regretted her decision to stay. Watching her daughter grow and develop, and listening to all the experiences she was at last able to enjoy all made it worth the sacrifice. Upon discovering her incredible ear for music and hearing the crystal clear voice of the child, Nona employed the finest tutors of the kingdom to teach her niece. It did not take long before the sweet cadence of Lily’s voice became the talk of the kingdom and she was invited to perform at parties and social gatherings. Although her voice was that of a child, innocent and pure, it also contained a depth of sadness in experience and emotion which exceeded her years. Longing for her mother’s presence colored her performances, mesmerizing all who listened and reminding them of long-forgotten childhood memories, tender first kisses, and forgotten love.

As the child blossomed into a young woman, Lily’s visits with her mother grew further and further apart. Although Roslyn was still dear in her heart, the ache of her loss was dulled through the passing of time and the distractions of her new life. Between her social engagements and performances and the extensive time required by her tutors and instructors, Lily did not have the time for visiting like she did as a small child. Roslyn missed her daughter terribly, but was also proud of the life Lily was creating for herself. She cherished every moment spent in quiet conversation with Lily on the smooth rocks by the pond.

Roslyn spent long days working in the garden, maintaining the plants and befriending the magical creatures who also lived there. She lived in a tiny hut which was nestled deep in the forested section close to the exterior wall. But her favorite part of the garden and where she spent the most time was near the entrance and the pond, where she was certain to hear if Lily came for a visit.

One day, shortly after Lily's eighteenth birthday, she returned to the magic garden bringing news of pleasure. She had met the prince at a grand gala held at the palace, and had even been given the opportunity to sing for the king and queen. Roslyn's heart nearly burst with pride as her girl described the evening, complete with all the royal finery, pomp, and circumstance. She felt that Lily deserved no less attention, for she had truly turned into a beauty. Her brown tresses fell long and shiny down her back, her green eyes sparkled with joyful imagination, and her voice was that of an angel.

It came as no surprise, then, when Nona brought news of her niece's engagement to the prince not long after. Roslyn felt at peace, certain that her beloved daughter would have the happily ever after that any mother could dream for their child. Her joy was bittersweet, however, as she thought of missing her daughter’s wedding day and never meeting the man who had captured Lily’s heart. The wedding took place, and Nona described every particular of the event to her sister in such detail that Roslyn could almost imagine being present for the happy occasion. Lily was radiant and so in love. Her prince adored her and it looked as though they would lead a beautiful life together.

A year passed, and then another, with no contact from the new bride. Roslyn missed her daughter terribly. She tried to explain away her long period of absence, certain that her new life with a new husband and royal duties must be to blame. Roslyn consoled herself imagining Lily roaming the royal gardens, entertaining dignitaries in the opulent drawing room of the palace, and losing herself in the endless books of the library. But still she did not come. Nona returned periodically to the garden to tell Roslyn how happy and busy Lilly was, but her eyes betrayed a subtle sadness which her sister could not explain. When Roslyn begged her for more details of her daughter or asked why Lily had become so remote, Nona simply burst into tears and ran from the garden, staying away for longer periods of time.

One evening, after Roslyn had retired to her little hut in the forest, Lily opened the garden door cautiously and set her elegantly-slippered foot onto the lush green grass within the garden wall. She breathed in the enticing scent that hung heavy in the air, closing her eyes to let the sweetness enfold her like a warm embrace. Moving further in, shining bright in the moonlight, she noticed a large grouping of flowers which had not been there at her last visit. They were lilies, standing tall and firm, their pure white petals opened wide and inviting to reveal a deep red center so vivid it was almost like the heart of the plant. Although she had seen flora and fauna from all over the world cultivated and displayed in the royal hothouses, Lily had never seen a flower of the like. She could not resist to reach out and touch the velvety softness of a single petal.

Without a whisper of sound, the white faery rose from her seat positioned on a smooth stone by the edge of the pond. It was almost as though she had expected company that evening. Her movement startled the young woman, who had supposed that she was alone.

“Your mother grew those flowers,” the faery said in her slow, serene manner. “It is her love for you which gives them life.”

Tears poured from Lily’s eyes, dropping on to her exquisite green silk gown.

“My mother has sacrificed so much,” she said in a strangled cry.

“Indeed, she has,” was the faery’s response as she looked long into the young woman’s eyes. “But this is not why you have come to the garden today, to visit your mother.” It was more of a statement, rather than question.

Lily shook her head, unable to bring her eyes back to the faery’s penetrating gaze.

“My mother has given her life working in this garden, all to provide a beautiful life for me, full of magic and love. I have been a selfish creature these past many years. She did not raise me to be such, but I took her and my aunt’s sacrifices for me for granted. For the first time in my life, I was sought after, admired, adored. It was intoxicating. My freedom and independence were worth more to me than those of my mother. For that I will forever be ashamed.”

Lily hung her head, several tears glistening brightly on her cheeks. After several moments pause, she continued.

“My child…” Lily said, her voice breaking. “My daughter, Emilia, is very ill.”

Amid tears and halting breaths, she then proceeded to tell the white faery about the last two years of her life. She had conceived a child shortly after her marriage, but lost it midway through the pregnancy. Lily was very ill following her loss, but managed to conceive again. Her weakness persisted, however, and she was bedridden through the length of her confinement. The child was born, a tiny daughter whom she named Emilia, but the baby was weak and was not expected to survive much longer. Lily had forbidden her aunt to tell Roslyn any of what transpired, for she knew that her mother’s heart would break with the news and the knowledge that she could do nothing from the garden.

Finally when Lily’s story was complete, the faery asked in her slow, melodic voice, “What is it you ask of me?”

Lily hesitated for a moment, then plucked up her courage and looked the faery directly in her eyes.

“There is magic in this garden,” she said with determination, “magic so real and powerful I was able to run and play, dance and sing, and live a life I had never dreamed was possible for a lame, mute girl.” She paused for a moment, then continued on. “Madam, I wish to use that magic for my daughter. Please remove the healing force from me and apply it to my dying child instead.”

The faery looked at the grieving mother with compassion. Although she was still beautiful, her frame was shrunken from being confined to her bed so many months, her eyes were dark and weary from sleepless nights, and her once lustrous hair hung dull and limp down her back.

Finally the faery spoke. “My child, the magic which makes you whole is precious and powerful because it comes from your mother’s love. It is her love, and that which she pours back into this garden, which makes the magic work.”

Lily could not help but interrupt. “Then let me work beside my mother in the garden. We can work together and make the magic even stronger!”

The faery only shook her head. “Magic to heal is powerful indeed. But magic to give new life requires a much higher payment. There is no magic without a price.”

“Please, I will do anything.”

The faery spoke in a slow and solemn voice. “My dear, magic to give new life, requires a life.”


(Part 3)

Lily walked slowly back to the palace, a treasure nestled securely in a pouch at her waist. She thought of what the white faery had instructed her to do. Plucking a single petal from one of her mother’s white lilies, she had placed it in Lily’s hand.

“These flowers are full of magic, for they were formed directly from your mother’s love for you. Carry this petal with you for three days. As the sun begins to set on the third day, place the petal on your tongue. Once the sun has set, your daughter will be renewed and your sacrifice will be complete. Good luck, my child.”

Over the next three days, Lily held her tiny infant daughter in her arms, telling her stories and singing her gentle lullabies. The thought of leaving Emilia was almost more than she could bear, but she felt peace in knowing that her child would grow strong and whole. Lily also received comfort knowing once she left this life, her mother’s confinement in the garden would come to an end. Roslyn would lose her daughter, but she would be gaining a precious new gift in the infant princess, her granddaughter.

Periodically Lily pulled the flower petal from her pouch, her finger tracing along the silky smooth exterior and around to the velvety red center of the petal. She thought of her mother’s heart being poured into the very petals of the plant, tinging them with her blood and her love. Lily wished that she could see her mother one last time to beg her forgiveness, to tell her that at last she knew what true love was, to say her final goodbyes, but the thought was impossible. Roslyn would only try to keep her from following through with her intention, and Lily could not afford to be stopped, not when her daughter’s life was at stake.

As the sun began to make its slow descent on the evening of the third day, Lily locked the door to her bed chamber and placed her mother’s precious petal on her tongue. It was sweet and seemed to flood her entire body with warmth. Gradually, however, tiny trickles of ice began to pour through her veins, starting from her neck and jaw and making its way down to the tips of her fingers and toes. Cradling the infant princess in her arms, she positioned herself where she could look out the window and observe the setting sun. Emilia’s pale skin began to flush with warmth and her chest rose and fell in deep, rhythmic breaths. Lily could feel her daughter’s fluttering heart beat under her skin, so much stronger than before. Her lips curved in a smile, even as a tear traced down her icy cold cheek.


**********

Nona was surprised to receive a strange letter from her niece just as the sun was beginning to set. The letter was sealed in red wax with the royal crest emblazoned on it, with instructions written on the outside to open at sundown. An ominous premonition prompted Nona to open the letter immediately upon receiving it, for she knew that her niece’s infant daughter was gravely ill and Nona was concerned for Lily’s state of mind.

The letter instructed Nona to go to Lily’s bed chamber, where she would find her daughter alive and well. She asked her to take the child to her mother in the magic garden and release Roslyn from her imprisonment. Inside the letter was enclosed a key to Lily’s bed chamber door.

Fear sunk deep into Nona’s bones. She did not know what Lily had done, but she guessed it had something to do with magic. Without a moment’s hesitation, she rushed to the magic garden, determined to find the answer she needed to possibly save her niece’s life.

Roslyn was horrified to see her sister flying in through the garden door, her face filled with anguish and fear.

“What is it, sister?” she cried. “Is Lily ill?”

“Oh, Roslyn, it is so much more!” Nona then explained to her sister all the events which had transpired over the last two years. Lily losing a child, then conceiving again to only find herself ill and the infant even more so. She then showed Roslyn the letter which she had received that hour.

In a desperate cry, Roslyn called out for the white faery. She appeared at once, stepping out from behind the large clump of white lilies, which had nearly doubled in size over the last two days.

“Madame, my daughter…!” Roslyn burst into tears of anguish, unable to go any further in her explanation.

“Yes, I know of your daughter and the sacrifice she is willing to make,” the faery responded. At Roslyn’s request, she proceeded to give a full account of Lily’s visit two days before.

When she was finished, Roslyn burst in with her words, “The evening of the third day: that is tonight! And the sun has already began to set! We do not have much time! Madame, I must see my daughter!”

“You are of course free to leave at any time, just as you always have been,” the faery said softly. “But by your leaving, the magic which keeps your daughter whole will be reversed. She will no longer speak or walk.”

Roslyn thought for a moment. She could not bear putting Lily in any more danger than she already was in. What if the effects of the spell would be increased if her ailments were restored? Roslyn walked over to her white lilies, tinged with the red of her love. She could see new buds already forming right before her eyes, the plant was growing so quickly. Roslyn spotted the flower which had been damaged, the one which the faery had plucked a single petal from. Reaching out, she used her pen knife to cut the flower from its stem. Cradling it in her hands, she approached the faery.

“These twelve years have I labored in this garden. I have sweat and cried, bled and prayed every day to keep my daughter whole. Please, grant me this one last wish.”

Roslyn extended her hands to the faery, the lily cupped within her palms.

“Please, Madame, allow me to leave this garden, but leave my daughter whole. Let me bear the infirmity on myself instead.”

The white faery took the lily in her delicate hands and looked intently at it for what seemed like a long time. Finally, with a sad expression on her face, she handed the flower back to Roslyn. The red center had bled through to the tips of the petals, leaving the lily blood red.

“It is as you wish,” she said softly.


**********

Nona helped her sister into the dusty old cart which still sat outside the wall of the magic garden. Roslyn could not help but think of the last time this cart had been used, transporting her Lily, once so tiny and frail. Now its wheels creaked as it bore a larger burden, but the cart held up well. Nona struggled to pull her sister along the pathway in the woods, but the urgency of the now almost setting sun gave her the extra strength she needed to get her sister to the palace.

Finally the sisters were at Lily’s bed chamber door. Nona pulled the tiny key from her skirts and unlocked the door. Lily was lying on the bed facing the window pointed toward the east, her daughter nestled in her arms. Lily’s skin was ashen gray, her sunken figure still and small in the large bed, but the baby was pink and wriggling happily by her mother’s breast.

Roslyn’s breath came out in an agonized, silent sob as Nona pulled her closer to her daughter. Gently, Nona took the baby from her mother’s lap and handed her to Roslyn to hold. She embraced her grandchild, holding her close and smelling the fragrant scent of rosewater on her skin. Emilia cooed and reached a grasping hand toward Roslyn’s face.

Lily slowly opened her eyes and witnessed the tender moment between her mother and daughter. Her heart was full. She had seen her mother one last time after all, and she had seen her child healthy and vibrant. She closed her eyes again just as the sun started to dip below the horizon.

Nona placed the baby back in Lily’s lap and helped Roslyn climb into the bed next to her. Roslyn watched her daughter’s chest rise and fall in painful, shallow breaths and knew that there was not much time left. She took the petal from between her daughter’s lips and placed it between her own. The results were almost instantaneous. Cold swept through her body like a frozen wind whipping through a narrow canyon. All energy now gone, her head fell limp against the pillow and she struggled to keep her eyes open. She managed just long enough, however. The last thing she saw was a rosy pink flush flood over her daughter’s face. Lily’s eyes opened in a startled moment of strength and clarity, just in time to see the horizon envelop the sun completely and hear her mother’s final breath.


**********

After her mother’s funeral, Lily made her way one last time to the magic garden. Her daughter was now healthy and robust. Her delighted coos and giggles could be heard throughout the royal palace, and the kingdom rejoiced in the birth of a healthy heir. Although Lily was overjoyed with Emilia’s turn around, she greatly grieved the loss of her mother. The pain of losing her forever and knowing the depth of Roslyn’s sacrifice made her healing much slower than that of her daughter’s.

Lily brushed the thickly growing vines out of the way and slowly reached out to turn the intricately carved key still lying secure within the keyhole. With a small click and gasp of sweet air, the latch was released and the door swung open.

As before, Lily placed a tentative foot onto the lush green grass and stepped inside, finally allowing herself to be overcome with the scents and sounds of the vibrant garden. The exotic aroma swept around her, tickling her nose and sending pleasant tingles down the flesh of her arms. The feeling was the same as before, yet somehow it was different. Sadness overwhelmed her and she fell to the ground, realizing that the difference was the knowledge that her mother was no longer there. Was this why she had come back to the garden? Did she secretly hope that her mother would be here cultivating the flowers next to the pond, or watering the dragonflies underneath the ancient willow tree? Roslyn was gone, and Lily was overcome with the grief of her loss.

The tender touch of a slender, white hand raised Lily’s head up from the ground.

“Sweet child,” the low voice of the white faery said. “Your mother is still here, you have only to look.” She then pointed toward the clump of lilies which had filled nearly half of the garden. They stood firm and tall, their now blood red petals reaching toward the sky as though greeting the sun with a majestic nod.

Lily approached the flowers and admired the vibrant red carpet they formed in this section of the garden. Cupping the silky smooth petals of her mother’s flowers in her hands, Lily embraced the enticing aroma which filled her lungs, her head, and her heart. Her mother was here, and that was all she needed to know.



THE END

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Epilogue

As a mother of four beautiful children, I have had no shortage of precious moments, whether they be joyful or staggeringly bittersweet. When I wrote "The Magic Garden" I was deeply contemplating the role of motherhood, and also the special bond among women. I reflected on memories of long talks with my mother after I came home from school, eager to tell her about my day, cooking lessons with my very own Betty Crocker cookbook, and late night work sessions as she expertly constructed my prom dresses and eventually my perfect wedding dress. I savored the sweet memories of watching my children blossom and grow, laughing when they laughed, crying when they cried, wishing that I could capture those moments in time and never let them go.


I thought of how my most sacred moments in life have involved my children. Health issues have given our family an extra dose of humility. There is nothing more humbling or devastating than watching a child suffer. So many nights have I held my frail daughter in my arms, wishing more than anything that I could take her pain away. To love someone so deeply is a blessing from heaven, but it comes with a dear price, for to see that loved one suffer is like being wrenched in two. The grief of a mother is the epitome of profound anguish.

In "The Magic Garden," Roslyn is so devastated by the physical trial that her daughter must endure that she is willing to sacrifice anything and everything to see her free from pain. It is the universal wish of mothers.  Lily is the recipient of her mother's sacrifice and enjoys the blessing of a beautiful and rich life because of it. However, she does not fully comprehend what it means to have this all-consuming love for another person until she becomes a mother herself. Only then does she recognize the full extent of what her mother has done for her and is compelled to sacrifice just as much for the safety of her own daughter.

At the end of the story, when Lily is devastated at the loss of her mother she witnesses the field of blood red lilies. Upon seeing them, she is finally given a moment of peace. She knows that the lilies are a symbol of the depth of her mother's love for her. Even though her mother is gone, Roslyn's love continues to grow and flourish in spite of the separation of death. Their bond is infinite and eternal. Roslyn gives everything gladly, instilling in her daughter the knowledge that she is worth the sacrifice.

I want my mother to know that I am aware of all the sacrifices she has made for me, her time, effort, and love. Before having children of my own, I did not know what it meant to give all to another living soul in body and spirit. Now I understand what it is to have little pieces of your heart pattering around the house, getting into mischief while trying to grow into their own. I watch these little pieces of me and ache for their success, their setbacks, and their solid steps away from me, but toward their future lives. I hope they know how much I love them. But they probably won't truly comprehend until pieces of their own hearts are walking away to make lives of their own.

It is worth every joyous and bittersweet moment.

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