Growing up, I remember our garden was one of the loveliest, most beautiful places I know. I remember how my 84-year-old now grandma would sing lovely hymns in her garden early morning and afternoon as if singing those beautifully written songs to her flowers and plants. She would grow the garden plants not only with water but also with beautiful hymns, so I as a child thought perhaps grandma was telling them stories, and those flowers being touched by the breeze of the air would somehow sway in