Copyright Sue Vincent
Agatha inherited her grandmother’s home, a small thing as houses went, with creaky floors and spidery cracks, a kitchen with two hundred years of updates and none of them modern. The place smelled of beeswax and herbs, lemon polish, patchouli, and memories.
She loved the quaint place that would become her home, but it was the formal garden that she roamed first. The Garden of Good Intentions, a little hand-painted sign said at the start of the nearest path. Neatly edged walkways, lined with bright fireworks of lavender, divided the round garden into quarters like slices of pie. All well-tended. But it was the myriad roses that had soaked up her grandmother’s devotion—old garden heirlooms and hybrid teas, exotics and wild species, miniatures and clusters of grandifloras.
The garden had once filled Agatha’s childhood with magic, but now as she strolled the pathways, her eyes widened with dread. She was born with a withering, wilting, aphid-prone, black-spotted thumb. In a year, the cherished garden would be dead.
Despite its impending doom, the place was worth an effort at least. Lips pressed between her teeth, Agatha rummaged in the shed for clippers and gloves and donned her grandmother’s straw hat with plastic daisies wired to the brim.
She watered too much when she wasn’t watering too little, cut away dying canes and broke a few living ones, deadheaded, and made her own fertilizers and bug sprays that scarcely worked. In the autumn, she trimmed the bushes back so far that she figured a few would never see spring. And yet somehow, they always recovered after a year… or two, heavy with blooms, vibrant, and smelling like heaven.
Jocelyn inherited her grandmother’s home with its creaky floors and spidery cracks, and though the kitchen had been updated, the place still smelled of honey and herbs, lemon polish and memories. She loved the quaint place that would become her home, but it was the beautiful garden that she roamed first. The Garden of Good Intentions, a hand-painted sign said at the start of the nearest path.
**
This story is in response to Sue Vincent’s #Writephoto prompt. Sue shares a new prompt every Thursday.
Myths of the Mirror 
Good stewardship and a beautiful tale. 🙂
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Thank you, Andrea. I think gardens are lovely legacies to leave to the next generation. I’m glad you enjoyed the story. Have a great weekend and Happy Writing.
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I have a feeling that the desire to pass on beauty, and knowledge, is hardwired into the human psyche. Happy writing to you too, Diana. 🙂
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Lovely, Diana. The whole story reminded me of a little garden off to the side of a century-old Victorian home on a small island off Long Island where we used to summer: You got the floral fragrance, the creaky floors, and serene experience exactly right. Thank you.
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Thanks! My grandmother’s house was like that (in Holland). Old and full of little quirks, and a beautiful garden. When I see a place like that here, it takes me back in time. 🙂
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This is a story filled with fresh green herbs. Reminded me of grandma’s and mum’s kitchen. They were old kitchens too, if only I could turn back time! Thank you Diana, it was a fabulous story. I enjoyed reading it.
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I like old kitchens too, Juli. And the smell of garden herbs, baking, flowers, and fresh air. 🙂 Brings back so many warm memories. Thanks for reading, my friend.
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Wonderful story, Diana. With good intentions everything is possible. 🙂
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Yes! Good intentions can go a long way! I honestly think nature/the world feels it. 🙂 Thanks for the visit, Sebnem. Have a great weekend.
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What a scent-filled magical story!
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Thanks, Jan, for stopping by to read and for the lovely comment. I’m trying to slip a few of my own stories in every once in a while. 🙂 I’m so glad you enjoyed this one. Happy Writing!
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Hello Diana! What a beautiful story. I wish I had a garden of good intentions. I too was born with a withering, wilting, aphid-prone, black-spotted thumb.
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That’s me too, Vashti. But roses for some reason are very forgiving. 🙂 I loved the prompt, which reminded me of my grandmother. Thanks for reading, and Happy Writing. ❤
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I love anything that reminds me of my grandmother too. Happy writing and great weekend!
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I just picked up one of Agatha Christie’s novels so my mind went instantly to her and English gardens as well. 😊 And what a beautiful little story you concocted out of such lovely fragrances! My nose could smell it more and longs for summer – not only because it’s cold at the tip! 😉
A very heartwarming story too it is. A garden that’s always taken care of through the generations – a beautiful image to behold. ❤
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Thank you for the lovely comment, Sarah. I love the scents that elicit memories and tie us to to places and people. Summer will be here soon and we can have our noses in flowers and honey. 🙂 I’m so glad you enjoyed the story. Have a wonderful day.
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Beautifully written, and it gives me hope for my own black thumb.
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Try roses! Ha ha. That’s my solution, in addition to good intentions. I’m so glad you enjoyed this story. Have a wonderful day and Happy Writing!
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Beautiful story 🙂 I’m in love with the name ‘The Garden of Good Intentions’!
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Thanks so much, Louise. I think good intentions have power even if the result or effort is flawed. I’m glad you enjoyed this. 🙂 Happy Writing!
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Love this, Diana! A nice glimpse of gardens when the snow is flying outside. And love the scent imagery! Reminds me of how much smells can stir up memories. ❤
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Those scented memories is what I was going for, Julie, as well as the generational legacies. Thanks so much for reading and stay warm! ❤
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You brought the beauty to life.
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Thank you so much, Michele. I was intrigued by the image, and where I often struggle for inspiration, this popped into my head instantly. I’m so honored that you enjoyed it. 🙂
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[…] D. Wallace Peach at Myths of the Mirror […]
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Thanks so much for sharing, Sue. A beautiful prompt that got the imagination flowing. 🙂
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I loved the imagery in this, Diana – also felt like I was reading about myself, lol.
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Thanks, Teri. I drew a lot on my own experience for this. My black thumb… and somehow the roses keep coming. Plus those evocative scents. 🙂 Gardening time will be here before we know it!
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I love your description of the poor woman who doesn’t have green thumbs (like me), Diana.
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That’s me too, Robbie! But somehow my roses are very forgiving no matter how I botch things. Ha ha. Thanks so much for stopping by to read. 🙂
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On a grey day you transported me to this heavenly garden, full of summer garden fragrances, sights and sounds! Wonderful piece and touching how it has remained within the family for generations!
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Thanks, Annika. I love how evocative scents are, and how they link us to previous generations. My grandmother was a painter, so her home always smelled like oils and turpentine. 🙂 And she gardened. I’m more the brown-thumb, but I try! And thank you for the kind mention on your post (totally unrelated to the reading timeline, so I was touched. ) Have a wonderful week. Hugs ❤
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I’m happy to have mentioned you and your books on the post … and think Pam had an excellent point! Brown-thumbed, eh? Somehow I doubt that. 😀
Talking of generations, I’m posting a review of a unique and wonderfully touching and brilliantly written book that spans three generations of women in a single family … it has become another one of my all-time favourite books and think it will interest you.
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I do like books like that! 🙂 Heading over.
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I’m posting tomorrow. It’s called Elizabeth’s Lists. X
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Oh good. I popped over and didn’t see it. 🙂 Looking forward to learning more!
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What was the name of it?
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You have such a way of transporting a reader with your writing.
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Thanks, Carol. Sometimes it’s like pulling teeth and other times it’s just there. 🙂 I’m sure you can relate. I appreciate the kind comment, as always. Happy Writing!
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What a delightful story. I almost missed the name change (sigh).
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Ha! Yes, that name change is important. I’m glad you enjoyed it, Jacqui. The prompt reminded me of my grandmother. I’m the one with the brown thumb. Ha ha. Thanks for reading!
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OMW, you have the most incredible way with words. I swear I could smell the beeswax and patchouli, and the walk through the garden was magikal ❤ Loved the images you conjured up in my head. So beautiful.
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Thank you so much for the lovely comment. You certainly got me smiling. Aren’t scent evocative? They elicit such memories. I’m so glad you enjoyed this. Have a wonderful week. ❤
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A lovely tale that emphasizes Mother Nature’s role in our lives, generation after generation…fragrance remains the same!
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Thank you, Balroop, for the kind comment. I remember the way my grandmother’s home smelled. Scents are so evocative. Happy Writing, my friend 🙂
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Oh, I love this.
And “a kitchen with two hundred years of updates and none of them modern” sadly, describes my own.
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Ha ha. Mine too actually. We draw from our own experience, right? It’s great to see you, Mike. Are you back from your fellowship? I hope it was a great experience, and hopefully you’ll fill us in. Happy Writing!
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I am back. And I blog about it soon!
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Beautifully described marvellous legacy
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Thanks, Derrick. It’s fascinating to me how a person’s legacy can travel through the generations. We need to remember that. 🙂 Have a wonderful week. ❤
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Beautiful story. xxx
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Thank you, Adele. I’m so glad you enjoyed it. Sue’s prompts are alway beautiful and hard to resist. Have a wonderful week and Happy Writing!
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❤
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Beautiful! Magical also. The place seems steeped in it. Has to be right for the poor brown thumbs to do their worst and yet have the garden thrive? Or maybe it’s just because they’re living up to the legacy of good intentions 😉
I love the description of the lavender – fireworks. So apt.
A truly lovely piece 🤗
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Thanks, Jess. The magical science of good intentions. 🙂 Ha ha. How’s that for an explanation? Thanks so much for the visit and the lovely comment. I’m glad you enjoyed. Happy Editing!
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Was that magical? I may be in a state between sleep and wakefulness but is Jocelyn roaming that garden and Agatha too like parallel universe or magical realms or she Agatha’s grand daughter and in a different time for she did not smell Patchouli? Beautiful, awesome writing, descriptive in every senses I could see the colours the vibrancy the overgrown weeds, smell the lemon grass and abhor the horrible hat with plastic flowers.
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I love your interpretation! 🙂 I wasn’t going with magic, though magic is a part of many of my stories. Just the passage of time. The scents have changed a bit with the passing of generations, but so much continues, intentionally and simply because it’s what is familiar and part of our legacy, passed on from grandmothers to granddaughters who become grandmothers. I love the circles of life. Thanks so much for the wonderful comment. Have a great week!
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A fragrant circle of life…well, what could be better? (K)
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Thank you so much for reading, Kerfe. I love circles in storytelling (and art) and life. I’m so glad you enjoyed this. Have a wonderfully creative week. ❤
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I enjoyed how Agatha started out dreading the care of the garden (not to mention that presumably that it came into her possession from her grandmother’s gentle passing), but despite a few mistakes and learning opportunities, the garden bloomed. It speaks of hope for generations to come, may there always be a garden for us to tend and may our mistakes allow us to recover from them. You have woven many great life lessons in this and it was a joy to read. Thank you!
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Thanks for the lovely comment, Ethan. I hadn’t even made the connection to the larger garden we live in. Our planetary garden doesn’t need us to be perfect gardeners either, but our intentions matter. The future rests on the younger generation. Happy Writing!
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🙂
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Smiling… Beautiful story of tangible and intangible value! ❤
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Thanks for the lovely comment, Bette. I always enjoy Sue’s prompts, and this was no exception. 🙂 Have a lovely week. ❤
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Wishing you a lovely week too, Diana! ❤
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Reminds me of a wonderful 1949 movie called THE SECRET GARDEN starring Margaret O’Brien.
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I haven’t see the movie or read the book, though I love the the idea of having a secret garden. Thanks so much for reading! Have an sweet week. 🙂
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Wonderful piece, Diana!
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Thanks so much, Jill. I love Sue’s prompts and am always happy to play along. Have a wonderful week. ❤
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Lovely writing, Diana. It brought to mind my grandmother’s home from many years ago.
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Thanks so much for stopping by to read, Steven. My grandmother was also a wonderful gardener. I try, and it’s a good thing roses are very forgiving. 🙂 Have a wonderful week ahead. ❤
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A garden as a heirloom is an excellent idea, and so is it’s name. Your piece brought flowers and beautiful smells into this winter day!
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Thank you, Basilike. I love gardening despite my black thumb. 🙂 Especially roses that tolerate by fumbling. I’m so glad you enjoyed the post. Happy Writing ❤
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I love flowers too, and roses are my most favoured. Maybe one day I’ll have a garden with all kinds and colors of roses. It’s a dream.
Love, B.
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I love the fact you become the character as you read through this story. Such detail and depth!
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Hi Betul, I have no idea how I missed this comment. I’m so sorry. Thank you for visiting and for your kind words. Much appreciated. 🙂 Happy Valentine’s Day!
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No problem! And thanks!
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I love this – on so many levels!
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Hi Pauline, somehow I missed your comment (almost 2 weeks ago! Ack!). Thanks so much for stopping by. Happy Valentine’s Day, my friend.
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The generational connectivity in this piece is so beautiful. Even the mere choice of names – like Agatha and Jocelyn – hints at what eras these people are working in. I enjoyed imagining this as a stately home, perhaps in Britain, with gardens that are often nowadays in ill repair. Such a kind, lilting tale!
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Thank you so much for the kind comment. The prompt made me think of English gardens and I’m delighted that you picked up on the names. 🙂 Yay. My grandmother was a beautiful gardener, and I have a black thumb, but I do try! And roses seem very forgiving. Happy Writing! 🙂
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That smells like every grandmother’s home… and I love the cyclical continuity of the inheritance.
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Thank you, Sue. I was trying to remember the fragrances of my own grandmother’s home. Not exactly these but so familiar and evocative. Thanks for the beautiful prompt. ❤
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My granny’s smelled of beeswax, coal and lavender… and freshly baked bread. The spirit of it is the same though. ❤
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Lovely story Diana.
I worry if ever I’m given a house plant as a gift as it never sees another year.
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Ha. I’m the same way. I’m always well-meaning but… My roses are the exception. For some reason they appreciate the effort and keep coming back every year. I’m glad you enjoyed the story. 🙂
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Our roses were beautiful last year………. this is year two…???? (please?)
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Ha! I hope they’ll be just as wonderful.
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Me too. Apparently roses like clay, and that’s the basis of the soil here.
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I didn’t know that. No wonder mine do pretty well. 🙂
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Everyone has roses in their gardens here and they are wonderful. I just hope ours do as well, especially as we’ve put them in pots now.
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Esquisite💐
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Thank you, My own garden only thrives on good intentions, because I’m Not a gardener. 🙂 I’m glad you enjoyed this. Happy Sunday. ❤
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Very sweet. We all need a garden where our good intentions flourish.
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What a lovely comment. 🙂 Thank you, Priscilla. I find roses very forgiving of my own black thumb. I think they know that I’m doing my best. Ha ha. I’m glad you enjoyed the story.
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I love this, Diana! Such great attention to detail,
and poor Agatha’s aphid ridden black thumb!
Loved filled generations and gardens bloom. Heartwarming!
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Thanks, Jordy. I have a black thumb too, but for some reason my roses are very forgiving. Ha ha. I’m so glad you enjoyed the story. Happy Writing!
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Beautiful! Magical! The Garden of Good Intentions. “The place smelled of beeswax and herbs, lemon polish, patchouli, and memories.” How I love this sentence!
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Thank you so much for the lovely comment. 🙂 I wanted to fill this story with fragrances, and I love the way their elicit memories. Have a lovely Sunday and Happy Writing!
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You are most welcome! may your Sunday be filled with love and happiness!
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I like this sentence too!
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🙂
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Interesting. History will repeat itself?
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I found your comment in spam this morning! So sorry about the late reply and thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed the story. And yes, we do repeat or at least carry on many of the traditions that we loved about our families. I love to garden even if I have a wilting, black-spotted thumb. 🙂 Have a great day, Sadie. 🙂
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Thanks for sharing your feedback. It happens with me too. I appreciate your taking time to reply.
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