The Great Garden Heist: Why There Are Always Two Sides to Every Story...Er...Salad
- Veronica’s Views

- Apr 13
- 3 min read

If you’ve ever tried to referee a dispute between siblings over who touched whose Lego, you know the "Truth" is a slippery little sucker. To one child, it was a blatant act of domestic terrorism; to the other, they were simply "moving a piece of plastic that was looking at them funny."
As a teacher for over two decades, I’ve spent roughly 40% of my life listening to conflicting reports. Helping kids understand that there are two sides to every story isn’t just a nice-to-have social skill; it’s an essential survival tactic for living in a world full of other humans.
But how do you teach perspective to someone who thinks the entire universe revolves around their snack schedule? You do it with a little help from a hungry deer and a very frustrated gardener.
The Word vs. The Picture: A Literary "He Said, She Said"
In my book, MMM... Marigolds!, I decided to have a little fun with perspective. You see, the words tell the story of a very picky fawn who is just looking for a decent meal. She’s the food critic of the forest. She’s got standards! She’s looking for something gourmet, something floral, something... that begins with the letter P. To her, petunias are the hero of a culinary quest, not the marigolds her mother wants her to try!
But—and this is a big "but"—the pictures tell a completely different story. While the fawn is waxing poetic about her lunch, the illustrations show a hardworking gardener who has spent her entire morning weeding, watering, and whispering sweet naughts to her prize-winning blooms. To her, that fawn isn't a "gourmet explorer"; she’s a four-legged lawnmower with zero respect for property rights.
Why This "Split Narrative" Works for Tiny Brains
It’s a Visual Mystery: Kids are natural detectives. When you read the words "What a delicious snack!" while looking at a picture of a gardener shaking her fist in the background, the child’s brain does a double-take. They start to realize that what we say and what is actually happening can be two different things.
It Builds Empathy (Accidentally): By seeing both the fawn’s delight and the gardener’s "Are you kidding me?" face, kids learn to step out of their own shoes. They start to see that the fawn isn't trying to be mean—she’s just hungry—but the gardener isn't "mean" for being mad—she’s just protective of her hard work.
It Questions the Narrator: This is a high-level literacy skill disguised as a funny book about flowers. It teaches kids to ask, "Wait, is the fawn telling the whole truth?" If they can question a deer, they can eventually question the kid on the playground who says "I didn't mean to kick the ball into the neighbor's yard."
Taking the Lesson to the Dinner Table
The next time your "Picky Eater" is having a meltdown over a stray piece of parsley, try the MMM... Marigolds! approach. Acknowledge their "Fawn Perspective" (The parsley is green poison!), but gently introduce the "Gardener Perspective" (Mom spent time making this because she wants you to grow big and strong).
Perspective-taking doesn't happen overnight. It takes practice, patience, and probably a few more readings of a book where someone eats the scenery. But eventually, the lightbulb goes on, and they realize that the world is a much bigger, much more interesting place when you look at it from someone else's garden.




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