Deborah Corrao / L’Observateur / June 5, 1999

One of my favorite books of all time is “The Secret Garden,” the story of miracles wrought by the friendship between an orphaned girl and a crippled boy and a secret garden.

My fantasy is to one day have a secret garden. I can almost feel the coolbrick walkway beneath my feet, winding through a jumble of shrubbery and tropical flowers. At the end of the walkway will be a gazebo with a sturdyroof where I can sit and read during rainstorms and seek comfort from the summer sun.

Along the path is a little detour leading to an open space where I have a gazing ball and a bench and a birdbath and butterflies.

Further along there’s a pond with a gently flowing fountain and dragonflies in a myriad of colors floating near the surface, their sparkling wings reflected in the clear pool below.

I suppose all of us have a secret dream, the dream that is waiting until we have more time or more money. A dream we continuously put off untilanother day.

It may be a trip we would like to take, or a career path we would like to explore, or a chance to further our education, or a retirement home in the mountains or near the ocean.

Your dream may involve a tremendous risk, but it only takes one small step to be a little further along the path to having your dream fulfilled.

I took that first tentative step toward my secret garden last weekend. Ata garden center I found a beautiful gazing ball of opalescent blown glass that reflects the objects around it in storybook colors.

I must admit that it looks a little forlorn now…sitting out in a bare spacein my backyard. But when I walk outside it reminds me that one day itwill have a special place in my secret garden, a place where there is life and love and laughter, where friendships are forged and miracles can happen.

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