Yesterday, my family and I went to Jardin d’Eassi, a beautiful old public garden, created by the French during Algeria’s period of colonization, starting in 1832.
It is truly an exquisite place, with many magnificent examples of huge and lovely old trees from all the continents. What struck me most, however, was not the botanical aspect – amazing though that was – but rather the peace and tranquility one feels there.
Tired after traipsing through the extensive garden, we decided to rest on ornately scrolled cast-iron benches which were placed along a small arcade of trees. We gazed about at the foliage, down the still, quaint promenade, and spoke only in muted voices to each other, innately respecting the hush in the natural sanctuary.
“I feel so safe here,” my daughter said. “I could sleep here without worrying.” And I could have, too. The natural security, the calm, the quiet with the lush greenery made on feel at ease, comfortable, and almost at home.
It came to me then, all of a sudden, why Allah talks about gardens as the home of the believers in Jennah. I sat in the garden yesterday, knowing that soon I would have to return home and attend to my daily life, to chores, to children, to work. But imagine feeling that peace – and how much more – always, without ceasing. Truly eternal bliss. A cessation of stress. Constant serenity.
The Jardin d'Essai, Algiers, 1881 by Renoir