Miss Tilia's Garden
The Feel Better Bush
On a gray morning when even the sun seemed to be hiding, Rowan sat on his front steps and sniffled. His nose was pink. His eyes were watery. His cough sounded like an old squeaky door.
âDonât come near us,â the other children had said. âWe donât want to get sick.â
Rowan didnât blame them. Being sick felt like carrying a heavy invisible backpack. It made everything harder. Even smiling. He felt alone. Lonely. So he wandered down the quiet path that led to Miss Tiliaâs garden.
The garden was never gray. It shimmered with soft golden light and hummed with the gentle buzz of bees who always seemed to be singing. And at the very center stood Miss Tilia, tall and warm and wise. Her bark glowed like morning sunlight, and her leaves sounded like they were whispering secrets to the breeze.
âWell now,â she said kindly, her voice like wind chimes. âSomeone looks like they could use a little help.â
Rowan tried to speak, but it came out as a croaky cough.
Miss Tilia rustled thoughtfully. Then one of her branches stretched toward a nearby bush Rowan had never noticed before. It was round and bright and full of shining lollipops. Not wrapped in paper. Not dusted with sugar. They grew straight from the stems like tiny colorful moons.
âThis,â Miss Tilia said, âis my Feel Better Bush.â
Rowan gently plucked a swirly green and gold lollipop. It smelled like oranges and honey and sunshine after rain. âWhatâs in it?â Rowan whispered.
âAll natural goodness,â she replied with a twinkle. âAnd just a drop of healing sap from me.â
Rowan took a careful lick. It tasted like laughing. Like running barefoot in summer grass. Like it was saying, âYouâre going to be okay.â He licked again. And again. With every taste, the heavy backpack of sickness grew lighter. His cough softened into a tiny hiccup. His eyes stopped watering. His shoulders lifted like balloons rising into the sky.
Before he even finished the lollipop, Rowan realized he was standing up straight. âI feel better!â he gasped.
Miss Tiliaâs branches clapped together in delight.
Rowan ran forward and wrapped his arms around her wide, gentle trunk. She smelled like warm earth and safe places. âThank you,â he said.
âGo on now,â she told him. âYour friends are waiting for you.â
Rowan sprinted out of the garden faster than the wind. At the edge of the playground, the other children stared.
âYouâre not sick anymore!â they shouted.
Rowan grinned. âWant to play?â
Soon, the gray morning was filled with bright laughter, racing feet, and the sound of a little boy who felt wonderfully, magically well. Back in the garden, the Feel Better Bush shimmered proudly. And Miss Tilia smiled, already growing another lollipop for the next child who might need hope.
#mysticalgardens #christianwriter #christianfiction #stacyfrantz #christianfantasy
The Feel Better Bush
On a gray morning when even the sun seemed to be hiding, Rowan sat on his front steps and sniffled. His nose was pink. His eyes were watery. His cough sounded like an old squeaky door.
âDonât come near us,â the other children had said. âWe donât want to get sick.â
Rowan didnât blame them. Being sick felt like carrying a heavy invisible backpack. It made everything harder. Even smiling. He felt alone. Lonely. So he wandered down the quiet path that led to Miss Tiliaâs garden.
The garden was never gray. It shimmered with soft golden light and hummed with the gentle buzz of bees who always seemed to be singing. And at the very center stood Miss Tilia, tall and warm and wise. Her bark glowed like morning sunlight, and her leaves sounded like they were whispering secrets to the breeze.
âWell now,â she said kindly, her voice like wind chimes. âSomeone looks like they could use a little help.â
Rowan tried to speak, but it came out as a croaky cough.
Miss Tilia rustled thoughtfully. Then one of her branches stretched toward a nearby bush Rowan had never noticed before. It was round and bright and full of shining lollipops. Not wrapped in paper. Not dusted with sugar. They grew straight from the stems like tiny colorful moons.
âThis,â Miss Tilia said, âis my Feel Better Bush.â
Rowan gently plucked a swirly green and gold lollipop. It smelled like oranges and honey and sunshine after rain. âWhatâs in it?â Rowan whispered.
âAll natural goodness,â she replied with a twinkle. âAnd just a drop of healing sap from me.â
Rowan took a careful lick. It tasted like laughing. Like running barefoot in summer grass. Like it was saying, âYouâre going to be okay.â He licked again. And again. With every taste, the heavy backpack of sickness grew lighter. His cough softened into a tiny hiccup. His eyes stopped watering. His shoulders lifted like balloons rising into the sky.
Before he even finished the lollipop, Rowan realized he was standing up straight. âI feel better!â he gasped.
Miss Tiliaâs branches clapped together in delight.
Rowan ran forward and wrapped his arms around her wide, gentle trunk. She smelled like warm earth and safe places. âThank you,â he said.
âGo on now,â she told him. âYour friends are waiting for you.â
Rowan sprinted out of the garden faster than the wind. At the edge of the playground, the other children stared.
âYouâre not sick anymore!â they shouted.
Rowan grinned. âWant to play?â
Soon, the gray morning was filled with bright laughter, racing feet, and the sound of a little boy who felt wonderfully, magically well. Back in the garden, the Feel Better Bush shimmered proudly. And Miss Tilia smiled, already growing another lollipop for the next child who might need hope.
#mysticalgardens #christianwriter #christianfiction #stacyfrantz #christianfantasy
đ Miss Tilia's Garden đł
đ The Feel Better Bush
On a gray morning when even the sun seemed to be hiding, Rowan sat on his front steps and sniffled. His nose was pink. His eyes were watery. His cough sounded like an old squeaky door.
âDonât come near us,â the other children had said. âWe donât want to get sick.â
Rowan didnât blame them. Being sick felt like carrying a heavy invisible backpack. It made everything harder. Even smiling. He felt alone. Lonely. So he wandered down the quiet path that led to Miss Tiliaâs garden.
The garden was never gray. It shimmered with soft golden light and hummed with the gentle buzz of bees who always seemed to be singing. And at the very center stood Miss Tilia, tall and warm and wise. Her bark glowed like morning sunlight, and her leaves sounded like they were whispering secrets to the breeze.
âWell now,â she said kindly, her voice like wind chimes. âSomeone looks like they could use a little help.â
Rowan tried to speak, but it came out as a croaky cough.
Miss Tilia rustled thoughtfully. Then one of her branches stretched toward a nearby bush Rowan had never noticed before. It was round and bright and full of shining lollipops. đ Not wrapped in paper. Not dusted with sugar. They grew straight from the stems like tiny colorful moons.
âThis,â Miss Tilia said, âis my Feel Better Bush.â
Rowan gently plucked a swirly green and gold lollipop. It smelled like oranges and honey and sunshine after rain. âWhatâs in it?â Rowan whispered.
âAll natural goodness,â she replied with a twinkle. âAnd just a drop of healing sap from me.â
Rowan took a careful lick. It tasted like laughing. Like running barefoot in summer grass. Like it was saying, âYouâre going to be okay.â He licked again. And again. With every taste, the heavy backpack of sickness grew lighter. His cough softened into a tiny hiccup. His eyes stopped watering. His shoulders lifted like balloons rising into the sky.
Before he even finished the lollipop, Rowan realized he was standing up straight. âI feel better!â he gasped.
Miss Tiliaâs branches clapped together in delight.
Rowan ran forward and wrapped his arms around her wide, gentle trunk. She smelled like warm earth and safe places. âThank you,â he said.
âGo on now,â she told him. âYour friends are waiting for you.â
Rowan sprinted out of the garden faster than the wind. At the edge of the playground, the other children stared.
âYouâre not sick anymore!â they shouted.
Rowan grinned. âWant to play?â
Soon, the gray morning was filled with bright laughter, racing feet, and the sound of a little boy who felt wonderfully, magically well. Back in the garden, the Feel Better Bush shimmered proudly. And Miss Tilia smiled, already growing another lollipop for the next child who might need hope. âš
#mysticalgardens #christianwriter #christianfiction #stacyfrantz #christianfantasy
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