Grandy's Garden

By Emilia Williams, aged 10

Sitting in the rickety vintage stripped deckchair, Morgan admired her Grandy’s garden. The garden was only small, but in her eyes perfect. It was her favourite place in the whole world. Here she felt she belonged. At school she was shy, bashful and an introvert. Here she was energetic, creative and full of life.

Grandy was hard at work, turning over his flowerbeds. He had paused to wipe his brow. “I’m ready for a cuppa Morgan sweetie, are you?” he beamed. They sat in comfortable silence, admiring the spring bulbs peeping from their sleep beds. Tiny blossoms were uncurling on barren branches, soon a cascade of colour would emerge. The robin was singing his faithful tune, delighted to have found a juicy worm for lunch. Morgan gazed dreamily at a busy spider, creating an intricate cobweb. Fascinated she dropped her biscuit into her tea with a plop! Grandy laughed heartily and they shared a smile.

Summer flew by, holidays at the coast and daytrips with neighbours here and there. Morgan felt she had barely stopped to breathe. Preparing her school bag for the first day back, she ran to her father’s office to collect her pencil case. In the kitchen she noticed her Mum sobbing hard, her tears dropping into the kitchen sink. Dad’s hand appeared on her shoulder. “Mum and I need to talk to you Morgan, something sad has happened.”

Autumn leaves fell from the trees and crunched beneath Morgan’s feet. She dragged her satchel behind her. Her heart was heavy; she was lonelier than she had ever been. She passed by Grandy’s front gate and the sold sign still was still there. The new owners were unpacking from the removal van. Turning the corner towards home, she noticed a Robin bobbing from branch to branch.

Winter crept in, wrapping everything in its cold cloak. “Grey and lifeless and hard as stone!” thought Morgan. Even Christmas and its festive feasts did not seem the same. Morgan noticed the Robin on her windowsill on Christmas Day. She carefully opened it and rested her palm upwards and the Robin hopped on. His rosy red breast warmed her heart and she felt a small smile growing on her lips.

Spring was on its way. Morgan felt a lightness growing in her step. That night after school, she opened the kitchen door and felt a gentle breeze on her cheeks. Stepping outside to her unkempt back yard, her heart leapt. There was a whisper, a shadow, and a movement in the corner of her eye. She saw the Robin sitting on upturned plant pot. His shiny gently black eyes were full of delight. His song grew into a merry tune. Morgan noticed bulbs pushing their firm green leaves through the unkempt ground. Tiny snowdrops nodded in pleasure that their friend had come to visit. “Grandy’s garden was transported here, but how?” Morgan questioned. The Robin buried another seed into the soil; next year there would be blossom too. “Thank you” smiled Morgan.