There is no person as beautiful as a person who dreams - Kim Himchan

I didn't like gardening. I always thought it was something old people fancied. My grandma really liked her garden and even if her back was aching and her hands got stiff she could be there for hours till all the roses were cut and all the brown leaves were raked in short until everything looked as amazing as a garden out of a fairy-tail. I myself tried to grow a cactus once and it lasted a whole four weeks and died brown and crumbled forgotten on the window shelf. I was always an active person. My plans for the future contained a loft somewhere in the city center, a job that leaves me enough free time to go bungee jumping, climbing, wild water rafting and all the exiting things they show you in these brochures for adventure vacations and maybe someone to do all these things with. This was the kind of life I always thought I would live but apparently dreams can vanish. They can disappear as if they were nothing than thin smoke that dissolves into the air.  And then they leave an empty space behind to be filled with something new. And now that all my dreams vanished I was suddenly thinking about a garden. I didn't like gardening and I don't think that anything will ever change that but the thought of growing and living things in bright colors and amazing smells is constantly in my mind and more and more I begin to like the idea. I’m old enough now to have learned that you have to make sacrifices and maybe I would have to take the risk to learn gardening even if I didn’t like to. My grandma would like that. She would take of my cap; she always hated them, telling me I should dress like a woman and would put me in one of those wide flowered trousers and put a round stray hat on my head and tell me all about the plants she was growing in way to fast Chinese for me to follow. But maybe all this would be worth it just to sit in my own garden watching the flowers while talking with her.