She had tears in her eyes when she thanked me for showing her my miniature gardens. It was like she had a new lease on life, a new purpose.
I was a bit overwhelmed that she was overwhelmed and, at that moment, neither of us really knew what to do. We quickly hugged, said our good-byes and walked away.
A few years ago, when I used to do the Fremont Sunday Market, I would secretly watch the people that would stand and stare at my gardens. It was as if they really weren’t expecting it to see such a thing.
You could hear the gears whirring in their heads as they stood, literately wide-eyed with mouths open, trying to figure out what I’ve done. I knew I rocked their world, but, to me, it was just a mini garden.
It was my very first presentation back in 2006. All the women were staring at me, most with a patronizing look in their eyes, trying to be polite. Dessert was waiting and I had to hurry.
“How do you see this as a viable business? Who is going to be interested in Miniature Gardening?”
I stumbled through my answer, as if I had never thought about it before.