Last year when I visited, I enjoyed myself very much. At the end, when I sat in the bench by the fountain and pond near the parking lot, the spirit of Jenny Butchart came to me. She had some guidance for me, and was pleasant. Most of the advice was on motherhood.
Yesterday, she welcomed me and my family. She got us a table for tea, even though we did not have reservations. To my delight, my newly-Reiki Master son was picking up on her spirit too. Our information from her matched. She wanted us to go to the Bog. But there was no place to sit. At the dazzling Ross fountain, she was right by the right hand side as you face the fountain. My son did not hear the conversation we had through my mediumship. She gave me advice, it was personal and about how to have success in relationship. She also did not think much of my latest interest (although she guided me to send him a picture text of the sunken garden). She told me it was time to go, gave me the warmest hug, and vanished, promising to come back with a message for you.
She returned and sat in the chair opposite my bed. And in her own words, here is what she has to say:
I like my town. I made it something nice, didn't we, my husband and me?
It wasn't pleasant at the start. It was an old mining town with lots of scoundrels. I hated it at first but grew to love it. It was nature and the people who were on the island in the first place that made me want to remain.
Our challenge was to remain honest and fair in our work when there was not much competition. The ability to gouge an unfair price was always tempting.
Mr. Butchart and I used to talk about this over supper: how to make a living, what was right, and what was simply too extravagant. We spent a lot of time on this, we want people to know.
We are fair, we are courteous, we are prompt and we are environmentally proactive, to use a term you would say in your times.
That gaping hole used to bother me. I knew about the Indian Burial Grounds enough to know I should not mess with them. And I suspected our eyesore wasn't winning us any points with the local people. It was a risk for anyone who might fall in it to their death. (the edges were that high and sharp). Fencing it would have been a waste of money.
But a garden! Wasn't I clever to have come up with the idea in the first place? I have brought joy to many people with my colorful appeance with the seasons. There always is a time of change, and I always sought to show the best of it. To welcome the new that a season would bring. I also set to balance it. Through my artistry, contrast and the visual is what plays upon the heart and gently opens it. And my grandson Ian Ross' fountain! What pure genius! It is magnificent at the fountains, yes?
That is where I saw you and your son. I wanted to make a difference. That is why I chose to manifest in you: to let others know I am supervising in perpetuity what my own hand had begun. I give ideas and thoughts to my workers, only to make it the nicest that our fine garden has ever been.
It is my Heaven.mI transformed it slowly and painstakingly from the eyesore and risk it has once been. The fencest to protect the paths, and all the flowers, for less than the original fencingnI had priced (if you would count the possible injury and legal fees for any breach in the fencing purpose might have been.)
And I enjoy it. As I enjoy your hand that writes my words. I have had my say, honey. I am warm in flesh and in spirit and my heart will touch anyone that ever sets foot upon my land or kindly views a picture of it. God Bless you and thank you,
P.S. my aura and my energetic system are refreshed from my time I spent in the Butchart Gardens. You may want to try it one day as well.