The sweltering heat of colonial India was all Mary Lennox had ever known. At nine years old, she was a sickly and ill-tempered child, living a life of neglect and isolation in this oppressive climate. Her parents were like those colorful butterflies you see flitting from flower to flower, always chasing the next big party or social event.Poor Mary was stuck with the native servants who had to deal with her every demand. Her Ayah, bless her heart, was this patient woman with kind eyes and hands roughened from years of work. She taught Mary the basics, like how to dress herself and tie her shoes. But that was about it. No one really paid attention to what Mary needed emotionally.So, Mary turned into this disagreeable little thing. She was as pale as a sheet and skinny as a twig. She hardly ever went outside, preferring to stay cooped up in the stuffy house. And boy, could she throw a tantrum! Her shrill voice would echo through the halls as she bossed everyone around. The servants would whisper about her when they thought she couldn't hear, calling her"Miss Contrary."Then, out of nowhere, disaster struck. A cholera epidemic hit the area like a tidal wave, sweeping away everything in its path. It was brutal, taking Mary's parents and most of the household staff. In all the chaos, if you can believe it, everyone forgot about Mary.Those days must have been like something out of a nightmare for Mary. She wandered around the deserted rooms, her footsteps echoing in the creepy silence. The house that used to be full of life now felt more like a tomb, with Mary as its only living occupant. She had to scrounge for food in the kitchen, like a little mouse trying to survive.When some British officers finally found her, Mary was even more of a handful than before. She'd built these walls around herself, like a fortress to keep out any more hurt. Her eyes, which used to just look bored, now had this spark of defiance and distrust.The officers were at a total loss. What were they supposed to do with this prickly little orphan? They reached out to Mary's only living relative, her uncle Archibald Craven. It was decided that Mary would be shipped off to England, to live at her uncle's place called Misselthwaite Manor in Yorkshire. Talk about a change of scenery!As Mary got ready for her long trip, she was weirdly detached about the whole thing. She didn't seem to feel anything about losing her parents or the idea of starting a new life. It was like she'd locked up her heart and thrown away the key. She packed her stuff mechanically, including this little doll she'd never even played with.When Mary saw the ship that would take her to her new home, it must have looked enormous, like some giant iron monster ready to swallow her up. As she got on board, she didn't even look back at India. All those bright colors and spicy smells faded away like some half-forgotten dream.Little did Mary know that her journey was just beginning. As the ship set sail, carrying her across vast oceans towards a place she'd never even heard of, something stirred in the air. It was like the universe was holding its breath, waiting for what would happen next. Mary had no idea that Misselthwaite Manor held secrets that would change her life forever. There was this hidden garden, locked away for years, just waiting to be discovered.As the Indian coastline disappeared behind her, Mary felt a strange mix of dread and anticipation. She had no idea what lay ahead, but one thing was certain - her life was about to change in ways she couldn't even imagine.