Tear me apart, but fill me with kisses. This desire haunts little Rachel as she discovers the beautiful plants in the now no-longer secret garden. There are old-fashioned plants all over, that type of plants that still listen to broken hearts. So they offer to console her as well. “Tear one of my petals and think of him” and so she does, but will it be enough? The certainty of seeing her love matched is way more worthy than those petals, leaves, and roots. Anything to be certain. When the sun goes down, all that remains of the plants are memories. But Rachel leaves, happily and joyfully: now that she has finally castrated a polite daisy, she can whisper, “He loves me!”