Hello There, Little Sprout

Come on in, Little Sprout, no need to linger by the door. We noticed you wandering in —the door gives that funny little squeak when a new face peeks through. We’re so glad you’re here. 

Welcome to our humble little corner of the herbal world. You know, there are some places that have always existed, within time, out of time, surrounded by the swirling cascades of time. 

Time is not a straight line leading you down the path, it’s a jumble of roots tangled deep in the earth and hidden deep where you weren’t supposed to wander but did. 

That’s where we are now. 

 If you thought you had stumbled upon an ordinary herbal shop, I hope you’ll forgive the confusion. This is more than a curious little shop of botanicals. We do sell things, yes. The herbs, the paper, the little pieces of wonder wrapped in paper and tied with twine. 

But the Emporium isn’t just a business. Not the way you would think. No, Sweet Pea, Hattie B’s Herbal Emporium is a place that lives alongside the world you know. 

We can’t go back physically in time, but when a memory hits just right —or wrong— we can get thrust back in time. Back to where that first tiny bud sprouted. We can also move forward, dancing in the waters of possibilities, dreams, and those things you only whisper to yourself. 

And if you’re really lucky, or really special, which I can already tell you are, those waters of time lead you to places like this. Some find us by chance, others by need, and a rare few on purpose. 

We are old. Older than any calendar will say. And so much smaller than we seem.  

This place has its own rhythm, its own ways of being and doing. We are no more keepers of the Emporium than we are of the earth itself. We tend, we care, and we follow what’s already been set. The very foundation we stand on was pressed together with stories, memories, truths, and tales. Passed hand to hand and root to root. 

There is teaching in the old garden if you listen real close —the plants remember, and they know what you need. 

Some herbs we tend to are soft and helpful, their lessons are gentle. Others have strong boundaries and stronger consequences. We tend to them all, we don’t judge their nature or rank them. Some people may find them uncomfortable; I think they’re just fine the way that they are.

 We just have to respect their ways. If jars shift positions, if drawers resist opening, try again later or whisper a gentle, “hello.” If the lights flicker when you speak a certain name —say it again, softly. 

The Emporium listens. It remembers. It has its own filing system. You’ll be part of it too now.  Under companion, or maybe another caretaker? How about friend? Or simply, a new visitor to bring something special to the Emporium.  

Now you’ve been listening to me go on and on about this strange little place, I plum forgot to introduce myself.  I’m Nana Root. I keep the pantry, I tend to the hearth, I speak with the plants, and I stay in a little cottage, just down the way. You’ll know it when you see it, the garden gate always creaks open for new faces and old. 

I’m not a shopkeeper. I’m just a listener who remembers. I remember with my hands what I was taught by the mothers and grandmothers who wrapped wisdom in stories and buried it with lavender.

I’ll share those stories with you too, along with some recipes, and some of the whisperings from the garden.  

Every month, we offer what we like to call our Monthly Marvels. I choose a plant, or rather, a plant chooses to tell its stories when it’s ready to share and I humbly relay them to you.

 E.H. Bellgrave also let’s a plant choose when it wants to come out and say “hello.” We don’t always agree on the presentation, but neither of us is wrong either. 

We don’t offer potions or promises. Just a plant, a story, a little piece to share with you. 

Sometimes you may be familiar with our little garden delights, sometimes you won’t, and sometimes it’ll be ones that were misunderstood and steeped in folklore and warnings.

 They’re not “bad” plants, they just haven’t been listened to. We tell their stories because they’ve been whispering in ours for a long, long time. There will be additions to this accounting, correspondences, and you may even find a little note or two tucked somewhere as a surprise. 

If something here pulls at your hem, follow it. If something confuses you, let it. The answers tend to show up when the time is right, and the learner is ready.  

We are simply here to remember and offer what can be offered. If you stay long enough, you may learn where things are kept, even if they don’t always stay put. If you forget, or something wanders off, that’s alright too.

 Everything finds its way home in the end. 

If you walk away for a while and come back, don’t even think about apologizing. The Emporium always remembers who came through the door, and it will open its doors wide again in welcome. Take your time. The shelves are waiting.