?You have to understand, my dears, that the shortest distance between truth and a human being is a story.?
-Anthony De Mello

Or so the story goes

Some say it began with the smallest sliver of hope shining through the darkness. Others say it began with the first giggle of a small, innocent baby born into a land that was destined to die out before it ever really had a chance to begin. Then, there are those that believe it began with the tears that fell from the corner of the eye of one of the many Divines, when she just so happened to have pity for the little bit of dirt she had been trying to cultivate. No matter how it happened, it had begun.

The land was dying. Its earth dry, cracked, and barely able to produce enough vegetation for anything to survive. The people say this was the newest Divine?s personal garden, but with her new power came new responsibilities and she was not able to give it much attention. But then, these were the beliefs of some and not all. The people had little faith in some unseen Divine and were bitter from harsh realities. They do not know how they came to such a desolate place, but they were there and did not know of any paths that led anywhere else. All roads led somewhere, yet nowhere.

The eldest of the people were simply waiting to leave this world and hope for a better one. The young that had managed to survive were slowly turning to into the bitter shadows of their elders. Some though, those precious few, who still had the lingering sense of hope knew that something good was left in this land and they could make it a thriving home as long they worked hard and believed. It was this bit of hope that sliced the very vein of bitterness and kept what bit of life was left in the land from dying.

One such woman had this hope in the very center of her heart and soul. She had found her love with another of the precious few and they were determined to make a life together. This would not be their end, but their beginning. And it would start with the birth of their first child.

The baby had cried as most tend to do upon entering the cold world upon birth, but as time went on the sounds of need also turned to the joyous giggling of tickled toes and bellied raspberries. The golden curls of hair and brilliance of green eyes belonging to the child knew nothing of the harsh reality that lay before her. All she knew was that she was loved, forever and always. The mother and father of this golden haired bundle of life and energy would see to it that their daughter would have whatever they could provide, so it was one day that her mother went out alone to last surviving altar of the newest Divine to pray for the care of her child.

The mother so young, so full of hope, and so strong in her belief that something good will come of this life knelt at the altar of the newest Divine. She knew the stories. She had heard this land was the dying garden of the Divine. She heard the grumbles that the Divine had simply become too busy to care for her garden and was willing to let it die in favor of more fruitful exploits. But the young mother had the hope that the Divine would still care for what she once wanted to love and grow, much like one would a newborn child. She did not believe the Divine would simply abandon them.

She did not pray to the Divine as she knew others had. She did not kneel to raise her hands in prayer, but rather she decided to bury a single seed. A wedding gift from her husband. Neither knew what the seed would grow and neither were sure that the seed would produce anything, but it was their love that kept the seed safe to the woman?s heart. The young mother pressed her hands to the earth, just over the buried seed, and squeezed her eyes shut. She murmured to the newest Divine to keep them safe, living, and to come back to them. She loved the Divine, she loved the man who shared her bed, she loved her child, and she loved this life. She would never wish for another. She gave what hope and love she could spare over to the seed and the Divine then simply stood and went home unaware that she had caught the attention of the newest Divine.

To hope and love so freely was surprising to the newest Divine. It touched her in a way that none other could. She had first heard the giggle of the young mother?s baby and that had stirred the tiniest of ripples, but she was a Divine and why should she care? But this was her garden. This was her land and she was letting it die by exploring her newfound gifts and adventures. She had become inattentive, yet this young mother still loved her and still gave her the gentle touch of hope. How could she simply let that go?

The newest Divine felt a new stirring within her heart. She felt what the young mother was trying to give. She also felt the tiny seedling that so wanted to grow, but did not have enough nourishment to do so. The young mother had given the newest Divine a seedling, a baby. And so it was then that the Divine began to shed her tears for this land that was meant to be hers, just like the baby that was meant to be the young mother?s. The tears landed in fat drops to the dry land, splashing hard and fast. At least, now the land had water but the Divine knew she could not spend all her time with her garden.

In that moment, the newest Divine made a decision. She could not dedicate her energy to the garden she wanted to love freely again, but she could bestow upon it a gardener. Someone who could dedicate life, love, and hope to bring the garden to the glory it was always meant to be. Someone who could be like the young mother, who had dreams and believed in the very best of others. So it was that the Divine pricked her finger and pressed her drippings of holy blood to the seedling buried at her altar. With that bit of blood, the Divine was leaving behind what one would need to be the best gardener. The best kind of love, hope, and care one would need to cultivate the best kind of garden. However, with each drop of blood, the Divine knew she was also freeing herself of the last traces of her humanity in her doubts, fears, and all that makes up the negative within a being. There are two sides to everything, after all.

After the rainfall, the people gathered at the Divine?s last remaining altar to give praise for the miracle of water but they paused at the sight before them. At the altar was a young woman sleeping in a covering of pink baby?s breath flowers, which unbeknownst to the people was a symbol of purity of heart, innocence, and everlasting love. The gardener had arrived.

The freedom of the land and the ties of humanity, part 1

Pum poom poom. Pum poom poom. Pum pom poom.

The heartbeat was strong and steady in the earth and in the Gardener. As the heartbeat grew stronger, the life of the land grew stronger. Plants, flowers, fruits, and vegetables were blooming. Creatures of varying sizes, shapes, and species were suddenly creeping, crawling, and roaming. The land was being revived. The people of the land were in awe, at first, they did not know what to make of what they saw, smelled, tasted, touched, and heard. They ended their days with prayers and hopes then began the next day with continued hope and their own rejuvenation.

The Gardener never slept, never ate, and very rarely sat still. She was often found naked running through fields of grass and flowers with butterflies in tow or swimming through the waters of nearby lakes. She watched as the people who drift away from her in weariness to rest, yet she did not understand the need. She did not feel lonely when all had gone to bed for the night because she had the moon and the nighttime crawlers to keep her company. She had everything she needed in the land and the simple joys of nature.

The sun was shining the first time an elder of the people approached her and brought along a present. The very first gift of the people to the Gardener, who blinked down at the simple brown cloth dress. The elder explained the importance of clothes and shoes, and the decency they bring to a young lady then helped the Gardener dress. Confined by clothes, the Gardener did not run or swim as much as she found her footing less than sure in the restrictive binds of seams and hard soles.

The moon was high and luminescent when the next elder explained that young girls do not run at night when the world is sleeping. She gave the gift of a bed and blanket, in which she tucked the Gardener in so tight that the very air was lost to her. The candle in the small room was blown out and the Gardener laid in the entrapment of an uncomfortable bed and suffocating tightly wrapped blanket.

The new dawn brought a new day, however, and the Gardener stopped to visit the young mother and her child. She stood awkwardly at the door in her dress and shoes. The young mother merely smiled and brought the Gardener inside. She knew the confines of clothes and shoes were not the Gardener?s way, so she removed the shoes and loosened the seams to allow more movement of limbs. Then, the young mother introduced something delectable to the Gardener. Her first taste of a strawberry was divine and soon she was able to taste other fruits, vegetables and foods that the young mother could spare. The Gardener was not ravenous nor had she ever felt the pangs of hunger, yet food seemed like so much fun and it ignited the senses. The young mother explained the importance of nourishment through food and began teaching the ways of cooking and tasting to the Gardener.

Eventually, the Gardener learned to sit still and sew dresses. She learned to find softer, lighter shoes to wear. She learned to sleep in a bed with a pillow and blanket. More importantly, she learned that food is not just for one?s nourishment, but it can be used to bring merriment with others as well as be a cause for unexpected bliss and joy.

Pum poom poom. Pum poom pum. Pum pom poom.

The heartbeat of the land and the Gardener was still steady, but it was not as strong as it once was. The sync of heartbeats was no longer enmeshed. The Gardener had lost some of her touch with the land as she was being taught to be human.

The freedom of the land and the ties of humanity, part 3

As the days passed, the Gardener continued to watch the people and how they behaved. She was slowly coming to understand just how emotions and bodily reactions worked. She would ask questions of everyone, but mostly the young mother about what she would see and hear. The young mother would do her best to explain the most of honest and gentlest of ways, but she knew that the Gardener would not fully understand unless she was able to experience the feelings for herself. Yet, the young mother did not want the Gardener to feel the pain and sorrow that others felt just as she did not want her own child to feel them. The young mother had the suspicion that the Gardener would not handle negative emotions as well as the elation of the positive ones.

Often the Gardener would sit at the young mother?s table kneading dough and ask why she could not feel every emotion like the people. The Gardener would always ask ?why? and would insist on wanting to know every detail, but the young mother did not know everything enough to satisfy the curiosity of her savior. So, instead of always answering directly, the young mother would playfully bop the nose of the Gardener, smile coyly and simply say ?maybe one day.? The end result was that Gardener would giggle and smile then soon forget about the question until the next time she remembered to ask. The next time, however, the young mother used the giggle and smile to share insight into the happier emotions of a person.

?Do you hear your laugh?? Then the young mother would hold a mirror out to the Gardener so she could see the smile. ?Do you see your smile?? When the Gardener nodded, the young mother continued. ?You are happy. I can hear and see the happiness in your voice and face. You liked what we did. Just like when you dance, run or swim. You are happy and like to do those things. They bring you pleasure.?

The Gardener nodded again as she began to understand the joys of life and how it lifted her heart to the sky and above. This was happiness. This was bliss. These were the ties to her humanity. As the ties tightened and she became intuned to more human traits rather than the growth of the land, her buoyancy began to diminish.

The first time she ever fell and scraped her knee was the first time the Gardener cried and felt true pain and sorrow. The young mother was there to clean and cover the wound. She was there to kiss and cuddle the Gardener until a smile formed on her lips. The young mother was the first to ever stroke the delicate golden curls of the Gardener and explain the pains of falling and the courage of getting back up. The young mother explained the strength it will take the Gardener to try again without fear of the fall and to always trust herself. Falling is not failure nor the end, but it is simply a moment to take a breath and rise again for success. In the end, the Gardener did try again and again. If she fell then literally would rub dirt in the wound and rise to try again.

She was one with the land and the land would heal her. The land would comfort her just as the young mother would heal and comfort her when she needed it. She would never stop trying because she believed in the young mother?s words that she was courageous and strong enough to never truly fall.

Mother

The young mother always spoke of her mother to the Gardener, yet the Gardener had never seen nor met the mother of the young mother. She wondered why the young mother spoke of her mother as if she was no longer here in this land. It always sounded like the young mother was talking about another time and another place, not where their home is now. One day, however, the Gardener chose to ask the young mother about her mother and where they came from and what had happened. The young mother merely smiled, sat to take up her sewing, and told the story of her mother and a life before now.

?My mother was a beautiful woman, who loved to sing, dance, cook, and grow flowers. She enjoyed laughter and was kind to just about everyone she met. I loved my mother very much.

I remember when I was a girl and we lived in this village, much like ours, but we had a wonderful ocean that we could swim and fish in. Our people would catch fish for others and trade it for goods. It was how our village survived, through trade. People were always coming and going, not like the quiet here. People coming and very few leaving.

We believed in a great Divine being, though I never knew exactly what his purpose was. Some say it was to watch over our village and he was the reason we were so plentiful of water and fish. That our village with thriving and strong, but not everyone believed this. My mother did, however, because she always said she would trust in our Divine no matter what. He was our savior and she often wondered if he would walk amongst his people to learn about them. My mother would pray to our Divine every day before the sun was full in the sky.

One day my mother was tending to her flowers just after giving homage to her Divine and her life left simply left her. I was but girl at the time and I remember finding my mother laying amongst her beautiful flowers. Her eyes were closed and I almost thought she was sleeping, but I knew she was not alive. I screamed and cried and continued to do so until others came to my aid. It was a very difficult time.

In the end, they laid my mother?s body to rest in a patch of flowers because they knew she would want to be with the very things she loved to care for. And I had lost a piece of my heart with her. But, I know this may sound strange, I could have sworn I saw my mother?s spirit drifting up to the skies above into the waiting arms of her Divine. Ever since I have always felt like she was watching over me and trying to take care of me and my family. I will often look at a flower and think that, perhaps, my mother helped that flower to grow just as she had done when I was a child.

When I would sleep, I would think my mother was singing down to me from the stars above like she used to do when I was small. One night, however, as I was a little older and my own faith was starting to fade I went to sleep and all I remember was waking up and we were here. The ocean was gone and pieces of the land that I remember was changed, but it felt as this was home. I missed the ocean, of course, but I knew that this was where I was supposed to be. Besides, almost the entire village was with me. So perhaps the ocean simply had dried up and the land shifted because everything else was the same, other than no one was ever coming or going anymore until the day you arrived.?

What has been, part 1

The night was long, the night was dark, and the night had stories to tell. The Gardener did not sleep in her bed covered by the comforting safety of a blanket or cuddled with the gentle touch of a pillow, no on this night she laid by in the wild and rested by a pool of water. She did not sleep, but merely held her eyes shut as her face was turned up to the stars and moon above. Her breathing deep as she tried to calm a restless body. This was the first night she ever had a dream of a time long past.

The water was high, too high for any one person to survive. The water was wild and set on a course of destruction. The water was wall of death and the people were too late in knowing what was coming their way.

The water crashed and collapsed quickly over the village. Few had time to get to higher ground or escape their inevitable doom. Cries and screams of terror were drowned out in the blanket of water that now was the small fishing village. Some survived, but most had not been that lucky.

A woman dressed in a cloak appeared to be walking the wreckage. She walked above the water and seemed to be searching for one thing. Her pause at the center of the destruction told the tale of her finding what she sought. For at the center, was a young woman floating with etches of fear on her face. She had not died a peaceful death, but one filled with the final thoughts of why. The cloaked woman bent down to gently touch the still face of the dead young, but she did not weep. No, she would not weep for the lost life of her daughter. Instead, she had the power to unmake this event and create a new life. In the blink of the eye, the village and all those inhabited it were gone as if it never existed, and to most it never did.

The Gardener drew a deep breath and flicked her eyes to stare up at the sky above. This might have been a dream or a vision of one?s past life, but it was not hers. Was it the Divine?s, whose blood was the very reason why the Gardener had a life at all?

What has been, part 2

The sunbeams were bright and warm, radiating love and tranquility. The flowers grew tall and lovely. The Gardener sat amongst the flowers and stared with a fierceness at the scene she was in in the middle of. The Divine stood tall and beautiful with her blonde hair and blue eyes. Beside her were the young mother and girl. A trio of blondes.

?I have failed you,? the Gardener said simply.

?No, they drove you to the madness that lives within all of us,? was the simple reply of the Divine.

?I have lost my heart.? The Gardener swallowed as she looking longingly to the young mother and her daughter. The family she thought she could have been a part of.

?You will always have your heart, but one never really had them.? The Divine touched the golden hair of the mother then the girl. ?This world, this dream is over and it is time for you to move on to the next.?

The Gardener was bleak and weary. She was lost. ?It was never to be this way.?

?It was never meant to be forever. Just long enough for me to love them again.?

The young mother looked to the Divine and smiled with love in her eyes as she said, ?My mother always watched over us.? The young girl moved to sit in the lap of the Gardener, who embraced the young one tightly for a moment.

The Divine reached out to stroke the blonde hair of the Gardener. ?You were me before I had my daughter. Now, it is your time to live and grow just as they have.?

?Alone,? replied the Gardener meekly. She did not know if she could survive alone anymore.

?You will meet new people and make new friends,? the Divine responded softly. ?But we have one request of you. When the time comes, you must bring back Glory to the land you settle in. She will need to live again and have a better chance at life.?

The Gardener tightened her hold briefly on the child, Glory, and nodded. ?I promise I will do this as you have done for me.?

The Divine smiled as the girl and young mother disappeared. She held out her hand to the Gardener and deposited several seeds. ?When my home was destroyed, I had taken them all and made them into my new garden, but I could not help them to grow as you did. You helped to make them human again and you will do so again. Tulips for my daughter, morning glories for Glory, and the others will be what you make of them. Be strong, be safe, and never let anyone change you for their own ill will.? The Gardener took the seeds and held them close to her heart. She would cherish them all. ?Oh, and as you travel the new worlds and learn new trades, let others know you as I was once known. Let them call you Taneth.?

When the world became whole again, the Gardner found herself wandering different lands until she came upon Rhydin, which was a land rich with energy, space, and people who valued and cared for so many. She settled herself into a small corner of Rhydin, planted her seeds and began to regrow the people and family she had come to love and adore during the time in the Divine?s garden. Eventually, Taneth created the Misty Forest and gave it part of her heart so she would always have a safe haven and place of revival for herself. And in time, she would fulfill the promise she made to the Divine. She would revive Glory.