Definitely not my garden

                        The Secret Garden
                        by Frances Hodgson Burnett

I should have read this as a kid.  It has a strong, smart heroine who makes things happen, and even though the plot meanders like a heavily silted stream, her curiosity and determination keeps it moving on.  It's as old-fashioned and sweet as Five Little Peppers and nearly as charming.  Such an imagination dear Mrs. Burnett had!  An old house with hundreds of empty rooms, lost and lonely on the moors, and eight--count 'em--eight walled gardens.

After writing this, I looked back at the author's bio to see whether to refer to her as Miss or Mrs. All things considered, she might have preferred a "Ms."  Twice divorced, she was living on her own when The Secret Garden was published in 1910.  She supported herself and, it appears, her family.

But I also learned that she was interested in Spiritualism and Christian Science, and that knowledge poisoned the book for me. It's no longer a sweet, whimsical, children's story--it's a sermon. I'd noticed and overlooked a certain preachiness in tone, but knowing what I know now, I don't think I could ever read it again. I, too, believe in the life-altering powers of nature, fresh air and exercise.  But I wouldn't write a book to brainwash children about them. The true healing in this book came from love, friendship, and laughter--not mystical magic.