Secret Garden

Bill and I attended a performance of "The Secret Garden" last night. It was a amateur theatre performance, but quite nicely done. Sets were quite imaginative and the mostly young cast did a nice job.


I always loved this Frances Hodgson Burnett story. It struck a chord in me from the time I read it in third grade. I envied Mary having her secret garden to escape to. I longed for such an escape as a child. But, for me, no place felt really "safe." 


When my niece was little, she loved this story as well. I remember her causing her father some distress by going around making the declaration "My father hates me!"  And, if I recall correctly, she locked her little brother (casting him in the role of Colin)  in his room at least once. 

This story was first published in 1910. It is now 2010 and the story seems as timeless and popular as ever. The belief in the healing powers of love, the mind, and living things is powerful and never grows old.