Arthur spent 35 years looking after the gardens of Jared’s estate. Over time, he became more like a family than someone’s employee. But after Jared died, his son Stuart, who was very conceited, got everything and, in a fit of rage, fired Arthur. 

The sound of Stuart’s loud laughter filled the big halls as he threw a party for his friends to celebrate his new power. Arthur liked the quiet melodies of the garden, but the loud music that was playing over them made it impossible to hear them. He couldn’t understand why Stuart had thrown a party for himself just a few days after the memorial service for Jared. Stuart, however, saw Jared’s legacy as nothing more than a place where he had behaved in an excessive and decadent manner.

The guests walked around, crushing the fragile flowers under their feet as if they owned the land. 

Stuart and his friends laughed about owning the mansion while they were drunk.

Arthur went back to the garden under the night sky when the noise from the party died down. 

Arthur’s hand bumped into something hard as he collected the remaining rubble. He bent down and could see an old, rusty trowel in the last of the light.

Jared often spoke about the estate’s history, including its secret places and hidden trails. But Jared’s stories made the garden feel magical and mysterious as if there was a whole universe of possibilities hidden beneath the soil and leaves.

Arthur sat down on an old garden bench and tried to make sense of what Jared had been telling him.

Stuart walked over as soon as he saw Arthur sitting there. Stuart yelled, looking annoyed, “What are you doing? I want you to leave by tomorrow.

Arthur found an envelope in the corner of the shed. It was covered in dust. It included a letter he had written to Jared many years before, in which he expressed his friendship and appreciation.

Stuart yelled impatiently, “Hurry up, or I’ll call security.”

Arthur chose to do this because he felt nostalgic and wanted to save something special. He took out some seeds from his work bag.

Jared liked sitting under the old oak tree in the garden. To honor Jared, he wanted to plant new seeds.

The trowel hit something solid as Arthur pushed it into the ground. He went a little further out of curiosity and found a small, worn box. He opened it carefully and found a few old, faded pictures.

Each image was a piece of history that came to life as Arthur studied it; they spoke louder than words.

Arthur decided to work on another project. The ancient fountain, hidden by the movement of nature, called to him. It made him think of the stories he had told Jared when they were together.

This part of the garden needed restoration. Arthur rolled up his sleeves and carefully fixed it to look like it did before. 

He scrubbed and cleaned it patiently until the fountain was happy to stand and sing its watery song again. Soon, the quiet voices of the garden mixed with the sound of running water. It was yet another example of something substantial but not real.

Jared’s legacy in the garden should not be taken away. The garden was full of happy memories and laughter. Arthur worked quietly, knowing that his efforts had kept a place beautiful and meaningful and that this was more than words could express.