Exactly one year ago to the day, it was a winter night. There was a foot of uncleared snow, and I stepped out into it — terrified and unsure of everything — with two bags of clothing, one for myself and one for my child, a backpack full of our most personal belongings, and a stroller.

I arrived at a “cabin in the woods.”

It was warm. It was quiet. It was comfortable.

Eventually, I stepped out of that cabin. I was somewhere unknown, and I was nervous. But I was inside, away from the snow and ice. I had everything I needed — and what I liked to call fairy godmothers — to support and listen to me. We talked about where I’d been, where I’d like to go, and what I could do to get there.

Slowly, the snow melted and the sun came out. I was ready — ready to go.

I came to realize as the fear of winter that was over me faded and the snow around me had now melted, This — right here where I was standing — was a garden. A beautiful, flourishing garden. I was surrounded by blooming, colorful growth: vines, peace lilies, roses, and delicate dandelions.

And I absolutely love gardens!

So I stayed. I stayed a little bit longer. I watered the plants. I picked and saved some flowers. I made friends with adorable little ladybugs. And I twirled — oh, did I twirl — in happiness, around and around, soaking in the peace and quiet I had so desperately needed to heal.

For the first time in a very long time, I was happy. I was rested. I was right where I was meant to be.

So I stayed a little longer.

This garden is called SARA.

And SARA is here for you to flourish, too