Maya pushed aside a curtain of ivy at the back of the courtyard. She found a small wooden door she had never seen before.
Maya pushed the door open and stepped into a garden where flowers glowed in colors she had never seen. A bluebird landed on her finger and tilted its head.
What do you hear? the bluebird asked. Maya listened.
The white flowers hummed a soft melody. The yellow flowers tickled her toes. The red flowers blew her hair back like a gentle wind.
I hear flowers singing, Maya said. The bird nodded proudly.
The bird hopped onto Maya's shoulder. Whisper back, it said.
Maya whispered to the white flowers. They glowed brighter and released a sweet scent.
Maya whispered to the yellow flowers. They bounced up and down like little springs. She whispered to the red flowers. They spun in happy circles, dropping petals that tickled her nose.
The bird flew up and dropped a small golden seed into Maya's open palm. For your garden, it said.
Maya cupped the seed and followed the bird back through the ivy door. As she stepped into the courtyard, she heard the garden humming one more time.
The seed grew warm in her hand.
Maya dug a small hole in the courtyard soil and placed the golden seed inside. She covered it with dirt and waited.
A green sprout pushed up. Then a flower, glowing with all the colors of the garden.
Maya leaned close. She heard the flower singing her name.
The courtyard was quiet now, but Maya knew the garden was still there, just beyond the ivy. She smiled and went inside.
And every night after that, if you pressed your ear to the ivy, you could hear them singing — the flowers, and the bluebird, and the little girl.
