🌿 Mystical Gardens Tale 🌿 🌳 Miss Tilia Every garden uses a veil and a barrier to keep from being noticed and to keep unwanted visitors out. That's just the way things are done. Right? Miss Tilia’s Garden is different. It's wide open for visitors at all times day or night. She only keeps true evil out. She knows very well how to protect herself and everyone inside if the need arises. People know they can enter whenever they want to. Some people hesitate anyway—humans are like that—but the path is always there, inviting them in when they are ready. Miss Tilia welcomes everyone. She does not ask names and only keeps the ones freely given. She does not judge. She does not require belief. She simply watches and waits. Visitors often say the same thing when they step inside. They feel such a warm and welcome greeting and are often heard murmuring: “Oh, she is absolutely magnificent.” Once greeted by Miss Tilia, visitors straighten their shoulders, as if they've been introduced properly and have just realized it. That's Miss Tilia’s way. Every guest is treated like royalty—not the loud, demanding kind, but the kind who have forgotten they matter and are being reminded gently, politely, generously. The children notice first. They always do. One boy said that he once found a stone shaped exactly like a heart sitting on the bench where he’d plopped down in defeat. A girl discovered a swing that hadn’t been there moments before and vanished the instant she stopped laughing. Another child swore the flowers bowed to her. Miss Tilia does not deny this. Adults have tried to explain it away. Miss Tilia lets them. Now and then, someone would arrive with a skeptical look. They’d glance around and mutter something unkind. Or think it—which is much worse, really. Trees are very good at hearing thoughts. Before Miss Tilia ever needed to respond, someone else always did. A regular visitor might clear their throat. A stranger who’d been there only minutes would suddenly speak up. Once, an elderly woman with dirt under her nails simply smiled and said, “You must be new. Bless your heart.” And that was that. Miss Tilia does not defend herself. She doesn’t have to. People who spend even a little time in her care tend to become fiercely protective, as if they've been welcomed into a family they never knew they were missing. The garden notices this too. It responds with warmer sunlight. Softer ground beneath tired feet.The occasional unexpected breeze that smells like something familiar and good. Miss Tilia never demands gratitude. She prefers return visits. And people do return—sometimes laughing, sometimes quiet, sometimes carrying things they're ready to set down. After all, Miss Tilia believes the world is heavy enough already. Anyone who finds their way to her is clearly meant to rest awhile. Stick around and get to know Miss Tilia for yourself. She truely is a magnificent tree and has an absolutely wonderful garden. #MysticalGarden #christianwriter #christianfantasy #christianfiction #stacyfrantz

🌿 Mystical Gardens Tale 🌿 Even A Garden Gets Tired of Being Serious The garden woke up one morning in a terrible mood. Not an angry mood—those were exhausting. This was worse. It was in a dramatic mood. It felt the need to exaggerate every little thing. The tree ignored it. The roses sighed too loudly. The trees leaned too far, as if posing for a tragic painting. Even the fountain trickled like it was telling a very long, very sad story. Az, the guardian of the garden, noticed immediately. He had seen this before. Boredom. Even gardens dealt with it. “This,” he announced, sitting in the middle of the path, “is unacceptable.” Nica knelt beside him to pet his soft fur. “What is?” “The atmosphere,” Az said. “It’s brooding. Gardens should not brood. That’s how you poison the ivy with trust issues.” As if offended, the ivy curled tighter around a trellis. Nica smiled. “So what do we do? Is there a cure?” Az flicked his tail. “We must fix it.” They started small. Nica began by telling the daisies they were doing a very good job of being cheerful. The daisies straightened proudly and stretched closer to the sun. They could most certainly be cheerful. Az walked up to the old oak and whispered something only a cat would dare say to a tree. The oak shook—once—then dropped three acorns directly on Az’s head. “Rude,” Az muttered. “But effective.” They went through the garden giving compliments and encouragement. By that afternoon, the garden was changing. The stones in the path stopped sighing and hummed instead. The fountain splashed a little higher and jumped up occasionally, like it was laughing at its own joke. A sunflower turned the wrong way just to see if anyone noticed. Nica did. “Oh,” she said with a smile. “I can see that you’re feeling much better.” The garden stretched, leaf by leaf, root by root. Finally, it seemed to remembered that it was meant to enjoy the day. Az curled up in a sun-warmed patch of grass. "My work is done. It's time for a nap." “Same time tomorrow?” Nica asked. The garden rustled happily. Az opened one eye. “Of course,” he said. “It would be a shame to let it get serious again.” 😅🤣😂🤣😅🤣😂🤣😅🤣😂😅😂🤣😂 #MysticalGarden #christianwriter #christianfantasy #christianfiction #stacyfrantz