Story

The Secret Garden

30 minAges 7-9

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The story

A Magical Secret Awaits

Imagine a grand old house with big, green grounds, and somewhere hidden within, a secret garden! It's been asleep for many, many years, just waiting for someone special to wake it up. Join us today as we meet a little girl named Mary, who discovers this enchanting place. Get ready for a tale of friendship, nature's magic, and how a secret garden can bring so much joy!

Mary Arrives at the Big House

Mary was a little girl who had lived far away, in a sunny land. But one day, she had to travel a very, very long way, all the way to a big, old house in England called Misselthwaite Manor. It was in Yorkshire, up north, where the winds can be a bit nippy! She travelled by train, looking out of the window as the green fields whizzed by. When she finally arrived, it was late in the evening. The house looked enormous, with so many windows! She was met by a kind housekeeper, Mrs. Medlock, who took her inside. Misselthwaite Manor felt quiet and a bit mysterious. The corridors stretched on and on, like a winding maze, and the rooms were filled with old furniture and portraits of stern-looking people. It wasn't like her old home at all. Mary wondered what adventures awaited her in this grand, new place. She hoped it wouldn't be too lonely.

Whispers and Wonders

Mary soon found the grand house felt quite lonely. So many rooms, but very few people. Mrs. Medlock was always busy, and Mary often played alone. She missed her old home, even though it was far away. One sunny morning, a kind girl named Martha, who helped Mary, came in with a cheerful smile. "Good morning, Miss Mary," she chirped, "Fancy some fresh air today? The gardens here are enormous!" Mary's eyes widened. "Gardens?" she asked, her voice small. She hadn't explored outside much. "Oh yes, miles of them!" Martha exclaimed, as she tied a ribbon in Mary's hair. "Flower gardens, vegetable gardens, and big green fields. But," "there's one very special garden nobody ever goes into." Mary leaned closer. "Why not?" she whispered. "Well," Martha explained, "it belonged to Mrs. Craven, the master's wife, a long time ago. When she passed away, Mr. Craven locked it up tight and buried the key. He said no one should ever go in there again. It has very high walls, so high you can't even peek over!" A tiny spark of excitement fizzed inside Mary. A secret garden! Locked away, hidden behind tall walls. What amazing things could be waiting inside? Perhaps colourful birds and forgotten flowers. Later that day, Mary ventured outside. The air was fresh and cool. She wandered along paths past wide lawns and colourful flowerbeds. As she walked, she spotted a friendly little robin, with a bright red chest, hopping busily on the grass. The robin chirped a happy song, almost inviting her to follow. Mary felt a strange pull towards a distant, high wall she hadn't noticed before. Could this be it? The secret garden? She walked faster, her small boots crunching on the gravel. The wall was covered in thick, green ivy, like a giant, leafy curtain. There was no gate. She pressed her ear against the cool stone, almost wishing she could hear whispers from inside. Nothing. But a big feeling of wonder grew in her heart. She knew, deep down, she wanted to find a way into that secret garden. She wanted to see what surprises lay hidden within those mysterious, ivy-covered walls.

The Hidden Door and Key

Mary couldn't stop thinking about the secret garden. Every day, after her lessons, she would explore the high walls, searching for a sign, a crack, anything that would show her the way in. But there was nothing. Just tall, old stone walls covered in thick, green ivy. She often walked with her friendly robin, a cheeky little bird with a bright red chest and clever eyes. He would hop and flit ahead, chirping a happy tune, sometimes landing on her hand, as if he knew a wonderful secret. Perhaps he did! One blustery afternoon, Mary was following her robin friend. He suddenly landed on a patch of earth next to one of the garden walls. He pecked at the ground, then chirped loudly, as if to say, 'Look here! Something important!' Mary knelt down. The robin pecked again, more insistently. It was a small mound of loose, damp earth. Mary carefully moved the soil with her fingers, her heart beating faster with every bit of earth she shifted. And then her fingers brushed against something cold and hard. She dug a little more, her breath held tight. And then she pulled it out! It was an old, rusty key, tangled with cobwebs and moss. It looked like it hadn't been used for a very, very long time! Could this really be the key to the secret garden? Mary clutched it tight. Now Mary had a key, but she still didn't have a door! The walls were so long, covered in ivy. She spent many more days walking, her eyes scanning, holding her precious key in her pocket. The robin was always with her, always seeming to guide her. One bright morning, the robin was particularly excited. He flew round Mary's head, then darted towards a section of the wall. But this time, he didn't just perch. He flew right into the ivy itself! Whoosh! He disappeared, then reappeared, chirping very loudly, as if shouting, 'Here! Over here, silly human! Look what I've found!' Mary hurried over, her heart doing a happy little dance. She pushed aside the thick, leafy curtain of ivy. And there it was! Hidden completely by the green leaves, was a small, wooden door. It was old and weathered, almost part of the stone wall, with a rusty lock, just waiting for a key. Her key! She pulled the old, rusty key from her pocket. Her hands trembled with excitement. Would it fit? She carefully slid the key into the rusty lock. It was a tight fit, but it went in! With a deep breath, Mary closed her eyes, then turned the key. Creeeeak! The old lock made a grumbling sound, as if very cross to be woken up. But it turned! And then click! A wonderful, happy click! The lock opened! Mary pushed the door gently. It groaned on its rusty hinges, slowly opening, just enough for her to peek inside. Sunlight poured through the gap, lighting up dancing dust motes. What did she see? Oh, you'll have to wait to find out! But she saw colours she hadn't seen in a long, long time. And she felt a whisper of magic, a tingle of excitement, just waiting for her inside. The secret garden was finally open, just for Mary.

Bringing the Garden to Life

Okay, so Mary had found the key, and she had found the door! Imagine her little heart thumping as she pushed that old, rusty door open, inch by tiny inch. What do you think she saw? Well, it wasn't quite a wonderland of colourful flowers and singing birds just yet. Oh no! It was a wild, tangled mess! Roses had grown so big and bushy that they covered everything, their thorny branches reaching out like sleepy arms. The grass was long and shaggy, like a giant green carpet that hadn't been hoovered for ten years! And there were lots of little weeds, popping up everywhere, trying to say hello. Mary stepped inside, her little boots crunching on the dry leaves. She looked all around, her eyes wide. It was so quiet, so still. It felt like the garden had been sleeping for a very, very long time. And maybe, just maybe, it was waiting for her to wake it up. She walked amongst the tangled roses, pushing aside the branches. She saw little grey statues peeking out from under the leaves, like shy children playing hide-and-seek. There were stone benches, too, covered in moss, just begging someone to come and sit on them. And everywhere, she felt a special feeling, a feeling of forgotten beauty. Mary had never really had a place of her own before. In India, she had always been looked after by nannies, and in her uncle's big house, everything felt so grand and a little bit lonely. But this garden… this secret garden… it felt like hers. It felt like a secret friend, waiting to be discovered. She started small. She picked up a little twig here, pulled out a tiny weed there. It wasn't much, but it was a start. She found a rusty old trowel – that’s a little shovel for digging – lying near a faded rose bush. And then, she found a pair of dusty gardening gloves, just her size! It was as if the garden was giving her little presents, helping her begin her big adventure. Every day, Mary would sneak out to her secret garden. She would push open the little door, careful not to let anyone see. And then, she would work. She pulled out more weeds, she cleared away the dead leaves, and she carefully trimmed the prickly rose bushes. Her hands got a bit dirty, her clothes got a little dusty, but she didn't mind one bit! She was too busy imagining. She imagined what the garden would look like when the flowers bloomed. She imagined the birds singing in the trees, and little ladybirds crawling on the leaves. She pictured herself sitting on a clean stone bench, listening to the buzzing bees. But it was a very big garden, and Mary was just one little girl. She started to think, "Hmm, how can I make this garden truly sparkle?" Then, one sunny morning, as she was digging near an old tree, she heard a sound. A quiet, gentle whistling! She looked up, and there, peeking over the high wall, was a boy with kind eyes and hair the colour of warm earth. It was Dickon! Dickon was a special boy who lived nearby. He spent all his time outdoors, talking to the animals and knowing all about plants. He had a little pet robin that would land on his shoulder, and a tiny fox cub that followed him like a shadow! All the creatures loved Dickon because he was so gentle and understood their secret language. Mary felt a little shy at first, but Dickon just smiled. "What a grand place this is," he said, his voice soft like a breeze. "It's been sleeping for a long time, hasn't it?" Mary nodded eagerly. "Yes! And I'm trying to wake it up! But there's so much to do." Dickon looked around with his wise, gentle eyes. "Aye, there is," he agreed. "But with a bit of help, it'll be the prettiest garden in Yorkshire." And so, Dickon started to help Mary. He knew all about which weeds to pull and which plants were special. He showed Mary how to plant seeds, tiny little promises of flowers, buried carefully in the warm soil. He taught her how to speak to the plants, telling them to grow strong and tall. Imagine Mary and Dickon working together! Dickon would bring little packets of seeds in his pockets – sunflower seeds, poppy seeds, and all sorts of magical flower seeds. Mary would carefully make little holes in the earth, and Dickon would drop in the seeds, covering them gently with soil. The robin would hop about, chirping its encouragement, and the little fox cub would watch with its curious eyes. They spent hours and hours in the secret garden. Mary wasn't lonely anymore. She had Dickon, and she had the garden itself, which felt like a living, breathing friend. Slowly, slowly, the garden began to change. The shaggy grass started to look a bit tidier. The thorny rose bushes, once wild and tangled, began to show tiny green buds. And then, one magical morning, Mary spotted something new. A splash of bright yellow! A daffodil, pushing its head up from the earth, like a cheerful little sun. And then another, and another! Soon, there were little purple crocuses, and soft white snowdrops, all peeking out, saying "Hello!" after their long sleep. The air in the garden began to smell different, too. Not just of damp earth, but of fresh green leaves and tiny, sweet-smelling flowers. Birds started to sing more loudly, building their nests in the branches they had helped to clear. The secret garden was waking up! It was stretching and yawning, ready to show off its true beauty. Mary felt different too. Her cheeks were rosier, her eyes were brighter, and she laughed more often. The garden wasn't just growing, she was growing with it! She had found something truly special, a place where she could be herself, and where magic was blooming all around her. She couldn't wait to see what other wonders the garden would reveal. And she couldn't wait to tell someone else about its magic. But who could she tell? And would they believe her?

The Boy in the Bed

The warm sun felt lovely on Mary's face as she explored her secret garden. Every day, it grew a little more awake, a little greener, and friendlier. But as wonderful as it was to have such a special secret, Mary sometimes felt a tiny bit lonely. Who could she share it with? It was a big secret to keep all to herself. One blustery afternoon, with the wind whistling around Misselthwaite Manor, Mary explored the long, winding corridors. Most rooms were locked, dark and silent. But Mary, being Mary, loved to peek and listen. She imagined stories behind those closed doors. Suddenly, she heard something strange. Not the wind, not creaking floorboards. It was a sound like a small, sad cry, then a whimper, and then... a proper, loud wail! Someone was very, very unhappy indeed! Mary stopped, her heart thumping. The sound came from far away, down a long, dark passage she’d never been allowed to visit. A forbidden part of the house. But Mary was much too curious. She tiptoed along, following the sound, her little shoes making soft *tap-tap* noises. The crying grew louder. It came from behind a big, heavy door, covered in a tapestry. Mary pushed, and to her surprise, it creaked open a little. She peeked inside. What she saw made her gasp! The room was grand, but dim, with heavy curtains blocking the sun. In an enormous four-poster bed lay a boy. He looked Mary’s age, perhaps older, very pale. His face was thin, eyes too big. He was crying, great big tears rolling down his cheeks, thrashing in the pillows. “What on earth?” Mary mumbled. She’d never heard of another child in Misselthwaite! No one had mentioned a boy. The boy stopped crying, eyes wide and red, staring at Mary. He looked startled, as if he’d seen a ghost. “Who… who are you?” he croaked, his voice thin and shaky. Mary, unused to being surprised, stood up straight. “I’m Mary Lennox,” she said, quite boldly. “And who are *you*? And why are you crying so loudly?” The boy stared, then sniffed loudly. “I’m Colin Craven,” he said, “and I cry when I want to. I can’t help it. I’m going to die, you know.” Mary blinked. “Die? Nonsense! You just look like you need a good run in the fresh air.” Colin’s eyes grew wider. No one had ever spoken to him like that! Everyone treated him with care, as if he were made of glass. “I do too look like I’m going to die!” he insisted, voice stronger. “I’m an invalid! My back is crooked, and I can’t walk properly. My father says I’ll have a hump!” Mary looked carefully. She saw no hump, his back looked straight. “Hmmph,” she said. “You’re cross and pale. But I don’t think you’re going to die. You just need to get out of this stuffy room.” Colin had never met anyone so direct. “Why are you here?” he asked. “No one comes to see me, except the doctor and nurses. My father rarely does.” Mary explained her journey from India, her lack of family. She told him about Misselthwaite, but not the secret garden. It was too soon for such a sad, cross boy to understand its magic. “You’re an orphan, then?” Colin said, sounding intrigued. “How dreadful! Like me, in a way. My mother died when I was born, and my father… he never really looks at me. He thinks I’ll be a hunchback.” Mary felt a pang of pity despite his bossy tone. He sounded very lonely. She understood loneliness. “Well,” Mary said, “you won’t get better lying here, thinking about humps. You need sunshine and fresh air. And maybe… maybe a friend.” Colin looked at her, truly looked, for the first time. A flicker of hope, or curiosity, sparked in his big, pale eyes. He was used to being the center of attention for being ill. This girl was different. She wasn’t fussing; she was telling him what was what! “I hate it here,” Colin whispered, his voice losing its demanding edge. “I hate being alone. And I hate lying in this bed, day after day. I don’t even remember what the outside looks like.” Mary’s heart softened. She thought of the robin in the garden, the green shoots, the clean smell of soil after rain. How sad he’d never experienced it! “I saw a robin today,” Mary said, her voice full of the garden’s magic. “He was singing such a cheerful song. And the wind was blowing gently, making the trees dance.” Colin listened, eyes fixed on her. He’d never heard such a description. To him, the outside was dangerous, forbidden. “Do you think… do you think I’ll ever see a robin?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Mary nodded firmly. “Of course you will,” she said. “If you stop thinking you’re going to die and start thinking about getting well. And if you let the sunshine in. This room is far too dark.” She walked to the curtains and, with effort, pulled them apart a little. A shaft of golden sunlight, dusty with dancing specks, burst into the dim room. Colin gasped, shielding his eyes. He hadn’t seen the sun in so long! Mary looked at him, then the sliver of sunlight. “There,” she said. “That’s a start, isn’t it? Just a little bit of magic to begin with.” She knew, deep in her heart, that the secret garden held even more magic for this sad, lonely boy. She decided then that she would find a way to share it with him, no matter what. He just needed to believe in the possibility of it first.

Magic in the Green Place

Mary knew she had a big job on her hands. Colin was used to being inside, feeling poorly, and getting his own way. But Mary wasn't afraid of a challenge anymore. She went to visit Colin the very next morning. The sun was shining brightly, and the birds sang as if a wonderful secret was about to unfold. "Good morning, Colin," Mary said cheerfully, pulling back the heavy curtains. Colin blinked, his eyes watering. "Ugh, Mary. It's too bright. My head hurts." Mary didn't fuss. "Nonsense," she said. "It's a perfect day." "It feels like any other day to me," Colin grumbled. "And I don't feel like talking." "But I have something very special to tell you," Mary insisted. Colin looked at her, a tiny bit of curiosity peeking through his gloom. "What is it?" "It's a secret," Mary whispered, leaning in closer. "A green, growing secret." Colin frowned. "A garden? They're boring." "Not this one," Mary said. "This one is different. It's... magic." She described it: "It's hidden behind a tall wall, untouched for ten years. The flowers are waking up, stretching to the sun. And there's a friendly robin, and lots of other little creatures." Colin listened, his eyes wide. "A talking robin?" he scoffed, but interest flickered. "He sings to me, and he understands everything I say," Mary explained. "And Dickon, my friend, can talk to all the animals! He has a little fox, a lamb, and crows that sit on his shoulder!" Colin had never heard of a boy like Dickon. "You should come and see it, Colin," Mary urged. "The fresh air would make your cheeks rosy. You don't have to stay in here feeling poorly." "But I can't go outside!" Colin protested. "I'm too ill! My back hurts, and my legs are weak." "That's just because you stay in bed," Mary said, firmly. "If you came outside, you'd feel stronger. We could take you in your wheelchair. No one would even have to know. It would be our secret." Colin thought about it. The idea of going outside was scary, but a secret, magical garden was tempting. "My father wouldn't allow it," he finally said. "Your father isn't here," Mary pointed out gently. "It might make you feel better, Colin. Truly." After much persuasion, Colin finally, slowly, agreed. But only if no one saw him, and only if Mary promised it was truly magical. So, a secret plan was hatched. Mary spoke to Dickon, who promised to help. They decided to wait for a day when the grown-ups were busy. Finally, that day arrived. The sun was warm, and a gentle breeze rustled through the trees. Mary, Dickon, and Martha's mother quietly made their way through the manor grounds. Colin was wrapped in blankets, his face pale, but his eyes darted everywhere, taking in the world. The green of the grass, the tall trees, the bright blue sky. "We're nearly there," Mary whispered. They reached the high wall, hidden by ivy. Dickon easily found the little door and pushed it open. The air inside the secret garden was different. It felt soft and warm, filled with the scent of damp earth and awakening flowers. Sunlight filtered through the old trees. Mary and Dickon wheeled Colin's chair inside. Colin looked around, his mouth falling open slightly. It wasn't tidy. It was wild and free, with roses climbing everywhere, and green shoots pushing up through the soil. Tall trees reached up, and patches of sunlight danced. And then, he saw them. A robin trilling a sweet song. A tiny squirrel scampering. Then Dickon quietly whistled, and a small, fluffy lamb trotted out, followed by a crow that landed right on Dickon's shoulder. Colin gasped. "They're real!" he whispered. Mary smiled. "Of course they're real." Dickon knelt beside Colin's chair. "Hello, Master Colin," he said. "Welcome to the green place." Colin looked at Dickon, then at the robin, then at the lamb nudging Dickon's hand. He reached out a trembling finger, and the lamb sniffed it gently. A tiny giggle escaped Colin's lips. It was the first time Mary had ever heard him laugh, a real, happy sound. "It's... it's not boring at all," Colin said, soft with awe. "It's beautiful." He looked at his pale hands, then at the vibrant green leaves. He took a deep breath; the fresh, sweet air filled his lungs. He felt a tiny tingle in his legs. "What are these?" he asked, pointing a weak finger at some small, purple flowers. "Those are crocuses," Dickon explained. "And these are snowdrops, brave little flowers that come out even when it's still cold." He held one out for Colin to see. Colin carefully took it, his fingers brushing the delicate petals. He’d never really held a flower before. This felt different. It felt alive. He looked up at the sky, which seemed so much bigger and bluer. He could hear the buzzing of a bee, and the rustle of leaves. For the first time in forever, Colin didn't think about his aches and pains. He just thought about the green, living world around him. He felt a warmth spread through his chest, like a tiny spark igniting. Mary, watching him, felt her own heart swell with happiness. This was exactly what she had hoped for. The garden wasn't just growing plants; it was growing hope. "Would you like to try and sit on the grass, Colin?" Dickon asked. "Just for a little while? It's lovely and soft here." Colin hesitated. Getting out of his chair was a huge thing. But the ground looked inviting, and the sun felt warm. And Dickon and Mary were right there. "I... I think I might," he said, a little shaky, but firm. With Dickon’s strong, gentle help, and Mary supporting his other side, Colin slowly, carefully, moved from his chair to the soft grass. He lay back, feeling the cool blades tickle his neck, and the sun warming his face. He looked up through the branches of an old apple tree, seeing the little green buds ready to burst open. "It feels... different," he said, closing his eyes for a moment. "It feels good." Mary and Dickon exchanged a happy glance. The magic was truly working. Colin, who had been imprisoned by his own fears, was now breathing in the life of the secret garden. He had found his own green place, a place where he could finally feel a little bit of magic too.

A Happy Surprise

Every single day after that, something quite wonderful began to happen in the secret garden. Little by little, like a tiny seed pushing its way up through the soil, Colin started to bloom. His pale cheeks began to get a lovely pink colour, like the petals of a wild rose. His eyes, which had once looked so sad and sleepy, now sparkled with curiosity and mischief. He wasn't just sitting in his wheelchair anymore. Oh no! With Mary and Dickon's gentle help, he began to stand! At first, it was just for a few wobbly seconds, like a baby robin trying its wings. But soon, those seconds turned into minutes. Then, one sunny afternoon, with a little hop and a skip, he took his very first step on the soft grass of the secret garden! Mary clapped her hands with delight, and Dickon let out a cheerful whistle that made the robin on the wall chirp along. Colin laughed, a proper, booming laugh, that echoed around the garden walls. It was the most beautiful sound they had ever heard. The secret garden wasn't just a place of growing plants; it was a place of growing friendships and growing strength. Dickon taught Colin how to whisper to the little fox, how to share a biscuit with the squirrels, and how to spot the busiest worker bees. Mary showed him all the hidden corners, the best places to find ladybirds, and how to tell a daisy from a buttercup. Meanwhile, far away in his travels, Colin's father, Mr. Craven, was still feeling rather sad. He missed his wife terribly and thought his son was poorly, always. He never imagined the amazing transformation that was happening back home. One day, Mary had a brilliant idea. 'We should show him!' she declared, her eyes bright. 'We should show Mr. Craven how strong and happy Colin is now! It will be the best surprise ever!' Dickon nodded, 'Aye, that's a grand idea, Mary. He won't believe his eyes!' Colin, who had once been so afraid of everything, felt a flutter of excitement in his tummy. He wanted to show his father how he could walk and run, how he could laugh and play! So, they hatched a plan, as secret as the garden itself. They decided that when Mr. Craven next came home, they would all be waiting for him, right inside the secret garden. But not just waiting quietly. Oh no, they would be ready to put on a proper show! It wasn't long before a letter arrived, saying Mr. Craven would be returning home. The children were buzzing with anticipation, like busy little bees around a honey pot. On the day he was due, they all gathered in the garden, hiding behind the tall rose bushes. Colin was standing tall, holding Mary's hand, his face shining with anticipation. Dickon had all his little animal friends ready for their parts. Mr. Craven arrived at Misselthwaite Manor, his shoulders still a little stooped with sadness. He walked through the big, quiet house, feeling the same old quiet loneliness. He thought he would go to his study, perhaps, and read a book. But then, he heard a sound. A sound he hadn't heard in years. Laughter! Not quiet, polite laughter, but proper, joyful, children's laughter, coming from outside. His heart gave a little jolt. Could it be? He walked towards the sound, following it through the winding paths, past the kitchen garden, and then... he saw the secret door. The door, which had been locked for so long, was now ajar, letting out a sliver of bright, green light. Mr. Craven pushed it open gently, and stepped inside. And what a sight met his eyes! There, in the centre of the most beautiful garden he had ever seen, stood his son, Colin. But not the pale, sickly Colin he remembered. Oh no! This Colin was standing, laughing, chasing a little squirrel, his cheeks rosy, his eyes sparkling with pure joy! Mary and Dickon were there too, smiling, their faces beaming with pride. Colin saw his father and, without a moment's hesitation, he ran! He ran straight into his father's arms, a big, warm, happy hug! Mr. Craven knelt down, tears of happiness welling up in his eyes. He hugged his son tightly, feeling the strength in his little body. 'Colin?' he whispered, 'Is it truly you, my boy?' Colin nodded, still beaming. 'Yes, Papa! And I can walk! And run! And play! It's all thanks to the magic of the secret garden, and Mary, and Dickon, and all our animal friends!' Mr. Craven looked around at the vibrant, alive garden, then at Mary, and at Dickon with his gentle animals. He understood then. It wasn't just the garden that had come back to life; it was his son, and a little piece of his own heart too. He scooped Colin up, laughing, and twirled him around. 'My brave, wonderful boy!' he exclaimed. 'This is the most marvellous, happy surprise a father could ever wish for!' From that day on, the secret garden was no longer quite so secret. It became a place of joy and laughter for everyone. Mr. Craven spent hours there, watching his son play, feeling the warmth of the sun and the love of his friends. And so, the quiet, sad manor house of Misselthwaite became a home filled with happiness, all thanks to a hidden key, a forgotten garden, and the incredible, wonderful magic of friendship and hope. What a truly happy surprise it was for everyone!

Until Next Time, Little Explorers!

And so, our tale of The Secret Garden comes to a close. Thank you for joining us on this wonderful adventure, little listener! Wasn't it fun to imagine all the magical colours and the lovely animals? We hope you loved exploring with us. Do let Sonacasts know if you have any feedback or ideas for new stories. Now go on, perhaps you can even create your own secret garden in your imagination! Goodbye for now, and thank you again!