Childhood Flowers
All her life, Sarah dreamed of a home of her own, though for the past twelve years she and her husband, George, had been living in the heart of London. George had served in the military, his unpredictable schedule making proper planning nearly impossible. Sarah spent her days waiting for her husband, raising two sons, and dedicating most of her time to the children. George truly was always busy.
George, why don’t we buy a cottage in the countryside? Sarah would suggest.
Sarah, you know I’ve got no time for a cottage, and you’d just be stuck out there alonewith the boys, travelling back and forth on the train. I can’t agree, I’d be worrying over you. Let’s live out our working years and then get ourselves a house in a village. When we’re retired, you can do as you please, George would reply.
Oh George, you always know best, Sarah would say, never arguing.
That day has finally come. Their sons have grown, built lives and families of their own, now living far away and returning to visit only on holidays. Sarah has retired, truly done with her years teaching at the local school. At her age, she longs for nothing but peace and quiet. She delights, now, in waking up without thinking about lessons or marking.
A House in the Village
George has retired, too. And at last, theyve bought a lovely cottage out in the countryside, the home both had dreamed ofa place to relax, pursue hobbies, welcome children and grandchildren, and breathe the fresh country air.
Well then, Sarah, lets head off to the village, George declared, and Sarah cheerfully followed his lead. Now to get used to the quiet village life.
Can it be true at last? she laughed, happily packing up their things while George carried boxes down to the car boot.
Sarah had loved flowers since childhood, a passion she had carried throughout her life. She immediately declared:
I want a big flower garden in the front! I want blooms all year round, from the first hints of spring until the late autumn.
The cottage is fifty miles outside Londonbeautiful and well-kept, the previous owners had cared for it splendidly. George and Sarah only needed to do a bit of redecorating inside to suit their tastes. The outside could wait; after all, George is handyhe grew up in the countryside.
Sarah, though, is a city girl. But she and her sister spent their summers with their grandmother in a nearby village, and there, her love of flowers began. Her grandmother always planted dozens of varieties, with Sarahs favourites being dahlias.
The cottage is fifty miles from the city
While George was busy with repairs, Sarah offered advice and he happily carried out her requests. Meanwhile, she threw herself into planning the garden, eager as the summer approached. From London shed brought packets of flower seeds purchased ahead of time, and at the local shop she bought seedlings from village grandmothers.
Excuse me, do you know if anyone around here grows dahlias? Sarah asked one elderly lady selling plants.
Oh, love, see that house with the green gate over there? Thats Mrs Stevens, shes the one who grows dahliasalways has, if Im not mistaken. Are you new here, love? You bought Freds old house, did you? She asked, introducing herself. Im Granny Barbara, just call me Barbara.
Thank you, Granny Barbara, Im Sarah. Lovely to meet you! Sarah responded with a warm smile.
Sarah walked into Mrs Stevens garden, spotting the older woman hanging out washing.
Hello, Barbara sent meshe said you have dahlias, Sarah greeted.
Hello, dear! Yes, Im just Mrs Stevens to everyone, but my real name is Claudia. And yours?
Sarah, she replied, not surprised by the informal greeting. Claudia Stevens, would you sell me some dahlia tubers? I love the flowersreminds me of my grandmother.
Oh, Ill give you some, no need to buy, just bring a little something so they settle in. Funny enough, nobody else bothers with dahlias anymore, but I do love them.
As Sarah planted flowers in the front, their neighbour Jane dropped by, raising an eyebrow.
Dahlias? Why? Ive never grown them myself. That was our grandmothers timenobody grows them now, we have so many new sorts of flowers.
To each their own, Sarah replied. Trends mean nothing to flowers, at least, not to me. Just wait until my dahlias bloommaybe youll change your mind, she smiled. My love of dahlias is lifelong, just like my love for Grandma Margaret; those are my happiest childhood memories
Sarahs Childhood
Sarahs parents lived in the city with her and her elder sister Victoriawhom they fondly called Vicky. Grandma Margaret, her mothers mum, lived in a nearby village, so the sisters spent every summer at her cottage.
Sarah remembers her grandmothers timber house, the spacious front garden, a bench by the gate, freshly painted before each visit. The gate had a metal horseshoe that served as a bellyou tapped it, and someone answered.
I remember the gate, with a little horseshoe on the doorId knock it for someone to come open it. Grandma Margarets clever bell! Sarah would tell George.
Oh, our parents were proper inventors, George would laugh.
Sarah fondly recalls the raspberry patch in Grandmas gardenraspberries were her favourite! Vicky, the older sister, wouldnt touch them.
How can you eat those, Sarah? Theyre covered in green bugs, Vicky would tease.
Youre just trying to put me off, but I love them anyway. Sometimes theyre a bit bitter, but thats just overripe berries, Sarah would protest, happily eating more.
She also remembers Grandmas strawberry beds. When they picked together, Grandmas bowl was always full, while Sarahs held only a few berries.
Grandma, how do you find so many so fast? shed ask.
The strawberries are playing hide and seek with you, love. Push aside the leaves, look closely, and youll find them, Grandma Margaret would encourage.
Sarah recalls little stools that Grandpa Greg made from logsperfect for Sarah and Vicky to play beneath the cherry tree. She always rushed for the tallest one, wanting to sit level with her big sister. Indoors, Sarah adored Grandmas tiny kitchenthe table by the window, covered in a cloth, with a plastic mat on top. There was always a bowl in the centre filled with pastries, rusks, or pies fresh from the oven.
On rainy days, Sarah and Vicky would climb onto the hearth; if thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, theyd hide under a patchwork quilt. Vicky would say it was a dragon, and they mustnt let it see them.
But one part of Grandmas house scared Sarah as a childa tiny, windowless room with an old trunk filled with a whiff of mothballs. In one corner hung something hidden under a dark cloth.
Grandma, whats in there? Sarah would ask nervously.
Thats Granddads old army coat, he wore it when he came home from the war, Grandma would reply.
But Vicky whispered something else, Its not a coatits an evil spirit, and if you let it out, itll take little ones away in the dark, frightening her little sister, whose eyes grew wide in alarm.
Sarah would always dash past the room with closed eyes, Vicky claiming she saw a hand or a foot behind the door, Sarah shrieking and fleeing as Grandma scolded Vicky for scaring her sister.
Theres no evil spiritVicky makes it up, dont worry, love, Grandma comforted her.
But Sarah adored Grandmas room, bright and airy, windowsills bursting with flowers. Above all, she marvelled at the gardenso many flowers in the front and near the house: golden balls, gladioli, even roses. But it was the dahliasdeep red, purple, and yellow with brown centres, blooming until late autumnthat she loved most of all. Shed go up on tiptoe to sniff them, and she still remembers the sight and smell of Grandma Margarets floral paradise.
Fulfilling the Flower Dream
George listened to his wifes childhood stories, looking forward to retirement and a country home, certain Sarah would recreate the beauty she remembered.
Sarah had always knownif she ever had a home and a garden, there would be flowers, with dahlias at their heart. Now, her dream is alive.
She planted her seedlings all around the gardenthere was plenty of space to let her heart run free. George watched with a smile, delighted to have granted her wish.
Summer came, and one by one the flowers burst into bloomuntil the dahlias opened, where Sarah would linger. Each warm morning shed hurry out to greet them.
Good morning, darlings, how I adore youevery one is beautiful.
Shed spend ages caressing the dahlias petals.
No wonder Grandma loved you, youre the proudest, most beautiful flowers, shed praise, certain the dahlias could hear her.
For two years now, neighbours have dropped by, admiring Sarahs flowers.
Sarah, youre truly giftedlook at all this colour! And those dahlias Even Jane couldnt take her eyes off them. You were right, Sarah. I didnt see why anyone would grow them, but I do now!
Yes, dahlias are my pride, such beauty! Sarah replied, gazing upwards. If only Grandma Margaret could also see her wonderful garden.
