The Garden of Elira

 

A story about choosing yourself before choosing love.

In a quiet valley surrounded by golden hills, there lived a gardener named Elira.
Elira had a gift: everything she touched blossomed.

Her roses opened earlier than anyone else’s.
Her lilies glowed under the moon.
Her jasmine scented the entire valley at night.

People from nearby villages admired her garden.
But very few admired Elira herself.

Whenever someone came to visit, Elira gave them her best flowers.
She let them walk anywhere they wanted.
She let them take what they pleased.

Not because they asked with kindness—
but because she hoped that by giving, they would stay.

Some stayed for a moment…
Some stayed for a season…
But eventually, they all left.

One day, after another visitor took her rarest rose and walked away without a thank you, Elira sat in the empty garden and cried.

A gentle woman named Seren, the Guardian of Roots, appeared beside her.

“Elira,” Seren whispered, “why do you give away your garden so easily?”

Elira wiped her tears.
“Because if I don’t give… I will be alone.”

Seren touched the soil with her fingertips, and the earth glowed softly.

“My dear, listen carefully:
People do not stay because you give.
People stay because you choose yourself first.”

Elira frowned.
“I don’t understand.”

Seren leaned closer.

“When you choose yourself, you protect your garden.
You decide who enters.
You decide who receives.
You decide who is worthy of your roses.”

Elira hesitated.
“But if I close my gates… no one will come.”

Seren smiled.

“The wrong ones will stop coming.
The right ones… will knock.”

And with a wave of her hand, she showed Elira a vision:
A future where her garden was radiant, full, whole—
and a visitor stood at the gate waiting patiently, admiring the beauty, asking:

‘May I enter?
May I care for this with you?
May I stay?’

Elira gasped.
“That kind of person exists?”

“Yes,” Seren said warmly.
“But they only appear when your garden is whole.
When you choose yourself, your heart becomes fertile ground for real love.”

Elira took a deep breath and closed her garden gate for the first time.

She watered her roses for herself.
She tended to her soil for herself.
She replanted, rebuilt, restored—for herself.

And slowly, her garden became the most beautiful it had ever been.

Weeks later, a soft knock sounded at the gate.

Elira opened it a little, just enough to see a gentle-eyed stranger.

“I have admired your garden from afar,” he said quietly.
“I came only to ask if you ever need someone to help you tend to it.
If not, I will leave as I came.”

Elira’s heart softened—not because he wanted to enter,
but because he respected her choice.

She smiled.

“Come in.”

And this time, she did not lose herself while giving love.
She grew alongside it.

MORAL OF THE STORY

Choosing yourself does not push love away.
It filters out those who were never meant to stay—
and clears the path for the one who will cherish you.