I was raised in an unhappy home. Only someone who has had a similar experience can know the damage this does to a child. Occasionally I was able to escape to my Great Uncle Archie’s garden. He let me roam freely; perhaps realizing I was an anxious child and needed the solace the garden offered. Archie was a Quaker and gardened like a Quaker-methodically, scientifically, respectfully, usefully. It was mostly vegetables but he couldn’t resist growing flowers entirely. Half way up on the right hand side was an arbor covered in sweet peas.
