Lessons

Where I grew up there was a very famous old public botanic garden noted for its great beauty and the breadth of its collection. However, its sprawling wooded acreage was situated in what our parents characterized as a bad neighborhood. Often, during a stroll there along a secluded path, a visitor could be jumped and mugged or worse. There was always an undercurrent of anxiety during a visit.

Once I bicycled to the garden—a considerable distance from our family home—chained my bike, took a tour, only to find my bicycle stolen when I went to retrieve it. I called my mom who said, "Told you it was a bad neighborhood. Tough luck. I’m busy," and let me walk home. It was a very long walk through some scary terrain.

So for me there is an inexpressible joy in having a place in the Conejo Valley like Gardens of the World community park, located opposite the Thousand Oaks Civic Arts Plaza, at 2001 Thousand Oaks Boulevard. The fact that it’s in the so-called Old Town area of the city of Thousand Oaks and built on the site of a former biker’s bar does not intimidate me in the least. I ramble its serene and fragrant acreage without qualms or trepidation and confidently chain my bicycle at one of the several bike racks provided.

During my most recent visit I was startled to see a bronze plaque near the delightful waterfall in the Japanese garden area. It read, "In memory of Marjorie McGrath, Docent 2003." In all my many visits to the Gardens, Marjorie was the only docent I had ever met.

Less than a year earlier I was out cycling with my neighbor’s 10-year-old and there’d been a mix-up with the girl’s mom about rendezvousing at the Gardens for a picnic that afternoon. As we peered curiously around, Marjorie approached, asked our names, said, "Oh, I have a message for you two from Mom, who had to leave before you got here," then allowed us to use her phone to call and straighten things out. She sat with us as we had our lunch and in the most natural way engaged then captivated my blasé young friend’s interest in the Gardens’ spectacle and history.

"Let’s go visit the Mission garden," Marjorie suggested, and once there educated two know-nothings about early California Mission life. With encyclopedic knowledge and the patience of a saint, she fielded questions that ran a wide and wild gamut: Why is that lady statue naked, and what happened to her arms? Why are the koi so big and blotchy-looking? Who was Betty Boop and why was a rose named for her? She explained about parterres, pagodas and perennials and encouraged us to consider traveling to Italy, France and Japan someday to see the original gardens that inspired these convincing and beguiling representations in Thousand Oaks.

Marjorie was wonderful—an attractive, intelligent, vibrant, friendly individual who took us on a complete guided tour, quizzing my young friend who for weeks afterward quoted Marjorie’s history and horticulture lessons back to me.

During my last visit, in the rose garden among a sea of color—many shades of red, orange, coral pink, yellow, pink, white, lavender and bi-colors—I wept for Marjorie and grieved for her family and friends. She was a truly admirable person who touched two strangers’ lives with her gracious nature.

As I wandered the paths, I noticed that some of the Gardens’ benches bore plaques with messages that provoke and inspire. One read, Live life with no regrets. Another read, What can I do today to make someone’s life a little better.

The lessons to be learned at Gardens of the World go far beyond how to grow great roses and fabulous iris and glorious Japanese cherry trees. Love and community spirit planted this garden; docents like Marjorie McGrath gave it a face and a soul. It’s a safe, welcoming haven filled with peace, the beauty of living plants and the memory of people like Marjorie McGrath, who taught us not only how to see and appreciate these gentle gifts, but about the fragile nature of life itself.