Wind,Rain,Winding Roads & Sunshine, The By-Ways of Life: April 2014

Thank You

The Child looked at The Prophet, her big brown eyes clouded with tears. Mr. Whale was ready to take off to his winter retreat, and the lily pad had banked on a large patch of seaweed near the cove that rose upon the embankment of the small island they had chosen for a rest until The Child had once again found her rhythm in the newly acquired skills she had learned.

"Prophet?"

"Yes, Child?"

"Same time next year?"

"Your Mr. Whale will return same time next year."

"And the lily pad?"

"The lily pad will be ready to go by then too."

"And you, Prophet? Will you stay here with me?"

"If you want me to, I will, Child."

"I want you to."

"Thank you, Child."

"Thank you, Prophet."

The Child looked on the water at Mr. Whale. He was slowly treading out into the deep water.

"Thank you, Mr. Whale," The Child yelled out loudly. "Don't forget to come back at the right time next year. I love you." Then she turned to the lily pad and said, "Thank you, lily pad. I love you too."

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To participate in The A to Z Blog Challenge is an enormous effort for a writer. Your support, your listening ears, your comments, your likes on Facebook, your tweets on twitter were gifts for which I am profoundly grateful, and as The Child said to The Prophet and The Prophet to The Child, I say to you, thank you.

Shalom Aleichem.

Peace to you.

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

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Zing

"Zing zing, zing," sang The Child, sitting on Mr. Whales' back as she zoomed by The Prophet. The Prophet lying comfortably, his body stretched out on the ocean observed her.

"My, you're zesty this morning."

"My seaweed tea tasted very good this morning, Prophet."

"Then you must drink the same kind of seaweed tea next time. It makes you hum like a hummingbird."

"Really, Prophet?"

"Yes, really. Zing once more."

"Zing, zing," said The Child and Mr. Whale zoomed with zest. Suddenly, The Child heard a sound coming from The Prophet.

"Zzzz, Zzzz, Zzzz."

"Prophet, are you sleeping?"

"No, Child. I'm resting my eyes as I look at you have fun."

"Why do your eyes need rest, Prophet?"

"Good question Child. You'll find out the answer one of these days."

"And when will one of these days come, Prophet?" The Child asked as she and Mr. Whale zoomed passed once more.

"Child, I like your zingy spirit. It makes you zesty and curious."

"Is that good, Prophet?"

"Sure, Child."

The Prophet got up off the ocean and returned to the lily pad. The Child was having the zingiest time of her life.

"Zing, zing, zing."

"Come, Child," said The Prophet. "It's time to zing forward."

"Zing forward, Prophet?"

"Yes, Child. It's time to move on."

"Will I come back here again?"

"No, Child. Your footprints fade as you walk out your journey. No one else can walk them, but you."

"You mean they disappear?"

"Yes, Child. You'll still be zinging but at another point in time."

"Wow," The Child said, and she stopped zinging; Mr. Whale stopped zooming, and flipped her playfully on the lily pad.

A faraway look came in The Child's eyes.

"What are you thinking, Child?"

I shall be telling this with a sigh,

Somewhere ages and ages hence.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood.

And I, Prophet,

Well, I took the one less travelled by,

And that has made all the difference.*

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

*The Road Not Taken. Robert Frost. 1916. Published in a collection. Mountain Interval

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Road_Not_Taken

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Years

"Years go by quickly," The Child said to The Prophet.

"Why, Child, you were telling me a couple of days ago that the year was going slowly. What makes you say that?"

"Because Mr. Whale seems older and my lily pad has begun to droop a little."

"Child, change happens. It's a daily process you can't stop. Just as seconds turn into minutes, and minutes into hours, and hours into days, and days into weeks, and weeks into months, and months into the year. Change is a valuable part of your journey."

"Wow, Prophet. Does that mean I've changed too?"

"Of course, Child. With every passing second, every passing minute, every passing hour, every passing day, every passing week, every passing month, every passing year you are changing and becoming more wiser and beautiful."

"Oh, Prophet, I love the way you say things. But am I really beautiful with every passing year?"

"My Dear Child, walking out your journey, dancing to your music, has given you a glow that brings out your beauty."

"Even when I mess up?"

"Yes indeed, Child. That's part of the journey."

"So, my year has been good even with my mistakes?"

"No, Child. Your year has been excellent because of those mistakes. If they hadn't been in your path, you wouldn't have obtained that beautiful glow on your face."

The Child lay on the lily pad thinking while rubbing Mr. Whale on his right side.

"If that's so, then I look forward to next year, Prophet.

So is it, Child. I do too. Let's treasure each year as it comes, and The Prophet began to sing softly in his baritone:

Should old acquaintance be forgot, 

And never brought to mind?*  

Shalom

Pat Garcia

*Auld Lang Syne. Robert Burns. 1788

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Xi

"Xi," The Child mumbled softly, "Xi."

"What did you say, Child?" The Prophet asked.

"Xi, Prophet. I don't understand Xi in the Greek language."

"You will continually be amazed at what you don't understand, Child."

"Well, do you know if X is called Xi in Greek, Prophet."

"Were you also aware xi is the fourteenth letter in the Greek alphabet?"

"No, I wasn't, Prophet."

"Child, what is the first letter in the Greek alphabet?"

"It's Alpha, Prophet, but what has that to do with xi?"

"Xi has to do with the Phoenician letter samekh."

"Is it the same as x, Prophet?"

"No, Child. X in Greek is chi, and xi is not x."

"This is so confusing."

"Child, language is confusing," The Prophet said.

The Child laughed. "Prophet, nothing confuses you. Even now, you know much more than you're telling me."

"What is the last letter of the Greek alphabet?" The Prophet asked.

"I'm not sure, but I believe it is Omega."

"Correct. Now would you like me to tell you the story of how the xi gets confused with the consonant x?"

"Oh yes, Prophet, and while you're telling me that story, please tell me why Alpha is the beginning, and Omega is the end."

"Get comfortable on your lily pad, Child, because you've asked for the mountain again," The Prophet said, and he chuckled at her curiosity.

The Child stretched herself out on the lily pad which floated on the ocean, and Mr. Whale alongside them and the Prophet began, "Once upon a time there were Phoenicians who…"

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

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What

"What's wrong with Mr. Whale, Prophet?" The Child asked.

"Nothing. He's winding down," The Prophet replied.

"Oh," said The Child.

"Prophet?"

"Yes, Child."

"What's winding down?"

"That's when you shake the work week off of your shoulders and relax."

"Oh," said The Child.

"Prophet?"

"Yes, Child?"

"What kind of work has Mr. Whale been doing that he needs to shake off his work week? Mr. Whale hasn't been working."

"Oh, really," said The Prophet. "And what does he do when he carries you around on the ocean?"

"Oh, I forgot all about that, Prophet. Sometimes I forget that those who support me need to rest. Does the lily pad need rest too?"

"It wouldn't hurt to give it a rest, Child. What do you suggest?"

"Why don't we walk on the ocean a while, and let it tag along?"

"Good idea," The Prophet said.

So, The Child and The Prophet stepped off the lily pad and started walking on the water, and The Child started singing a happy tune,

Here we go round the mulberry bush,

The mulberry bush,

Here we go round the mulberry bush

So early in the morning.*

And Mr. Whale and the lily pad followed as they listened to the song of The Child with joy.

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

*Here We Go Round The Mulberry Bush, First Recorded by James Orchard Halliwell, 1840s. England http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Here_We_Go_Round_the_Mulberry_Bush

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Very

"Very, very, nice, Child," said The Prophet.

"It is, isn't it, Prophet. I just wish I would be there now. I'm very impatient."

"I know, Child. How well I know."

"At least, I know I'm moving in the right direction."

"Very true, but you know much more, Child."

"Do I?"

"What did you view in the sun, Child?"

"My dream."

"Have you ever viewed it so closely before?"

"No."

"So what do you think it means, Child?"

"You mean, I'm getting closer?"

"You're closer than you think. You're on the verge," and The Prophet chuckled at the face of The Child.

"Wow."

"What do you plan to do when you get there?"

"I'm going to sleep; then, I'll have a nice quiet breakfast while I cry."

"Cry, Child, that's very strange."

"No, it's not Prophet. It's very me. I always sleep and cry at successes."

"I see. Shall we return to the lily pad?" The Prophet asked.

"How far do I have to get back?"

"Are you very tired?" asked The Prophet.

"I am, Prophet. Excursions on the water make me tired."

"Look, Child. Look whose coming."

"Oh, how nice. It's Mr. Whale. Thank you for coming to get me, Mr. Whale" The Child said and climbed aboard it back and grabbed hold of its dorsal fin.

"Prophet?"

"Yes, Child."

"I just love Mr. Whale." The Child said as the whale began to pick up speed. The Prophet's laughter echoed over the ocean as The Child held on to the dorsal fin, and the whale zoomed in the direction of her lily pad.

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

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Up

"Up, Child," said The Prophet.

The Child had been sleeping soundly on the lily pad.

"Why do I have to get up, Prophet?"

"You need to see something beautiful."

So, The Child rose, drank a glass of seawater that miraculously tasted like tea and looked out on the horizon. It was dawn.

"What do you want me to see, Prophet?"

"It's a surprise. So come now, we have to leave the lily pad for you to see it."

"But I haven't walked on the ocean for days. I think I've forgotten how to," The Child said.

"Good reason to walk. Walking the ocean ought to become a routine."

"Prophet, I don't think I'll care for this adventure without my lily pad."

"You'll love it. So, stand up and let's go, before you miss it."

The first steps on the ocean were tricky. One of The Child's feet went beneath the water.

"Prophet, I'm slipping under."

"Keep your eyes on me, and don't look at the ocean. We're almost in the right spot."

The Child turned her head and looked at The Prophet as he held one of her hands.

"Strange, Prophet. Why are you looking straight ahead?"

"If you turn your head and look straight ahead, you'll see why. We've reached our destination."

The Child turned her head and saw the most beautiful sun rising on the horizon.

"Oh, Prophet, it's beautiful," The Child murmured.

Suddenly, she saw someone before the sun dancing with joy.

"That's my dream, Prophet! That's my dream up there in the sun.

The Prophet laughed. "Yes, Child, that is."

"Prophet, can everyone see my dream."

"Child, no one can see your dream but you."

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

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Time

"Time is moving so slowly, Prophet. I'm in the same place I was yesterday."

The Prophet chuckled at the Child's impatience.

"No you're not, child?"

"But I don't see any progress. I think I'm moving, but every time I look up it looks as if I'm in the same place. Time is standing still."

"Trust me, you're moving Child, and let me assure time isn't standing still." The Prophet said.

"Then why don't I see that I'm moving toward my goals?"

"Child, there has been many who started out as you have that thought as you're thinking right now."

"Did they make it?"

"Of course, they did. Sometimes they faltered, one or two even fell, but they kept on going, even though they didn't feel any movement."

The Child pondered over what The Prophet had said.

"Maybe, they didn't have a Prophet, like I do, to help them along the way." The Child mumbled with a sigh.

The Prophet bent over in fits of laughter. When he had calmed down, he said, "Child, they had help. They too had to learn the timing of their own drumbeats in order to see progress. You're not alone in your quest."

"Do you mean they had a Prophet too?"

"Of course."

"And how do you know they had one, Prophet? Were you there?" The Child asked.

"Child would you like me to tell you a little story?"

"Oh yes, Prophet," The Child said, forgetting her question. "I love your stories. They seem so real."

"Then, once upon a time, darkness and water covered the earth…" The Prophet began.

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

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Set

"Set the sail, Child, set the sail," The Prophet commanded, looking at her face.

"Prophet, a lily pad don't have a sail," The Child replied.

"You have a sail, Child; you must set the course."

"Then, where is it?" The Child asked defiantly.

"Here, Child," The Prophet said as he tapped on the top of her head. "It is in here."

"So, how do I set sail in my head?"

"Child don't you see you need to plot your course. You have to have some idea of where you're going."

"So, returning to my vision is not enough, Prophet?"

"Correct, Child. You need to set your sail so you can go the distance."

"So, how do I set sail in my head?" The Child asked.

The Prophet moved his hand from her head and covered her eyes with both of his hands.

"What do you see, Child?"

In her heart the dreams that started her on her journey arose, riding on the ocean ahead of her, beckoning her to come.

"I see them, Prophet. I see them!" The Child said excitedly. "But they're moving away from me."

"That's true, because you haven't set your sail."

"So my saying yes to leaving the cove provided me with a sail?"

"Yes, Child."

"What must I do now?"

"Move your lily pad out on the ocean."

The Child shoved her lily pad away from the cove and closed her eyes; the wind gathered up its speed; the lily pad began to move with the wind current, and the whale swam happily farther out.

"Is my sail set, Prophet?"

"Yes, Child. Keep dreaming. We're on our way," The Prophet replied with a smile.

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

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Return

"Return, Prophet? Do we have to return?"

"Have you forgotten your dreams, Child?" The Prophet asked.

"No... But why I do I have to return now?"

"Because it's time to put your focus back onto where you're heading."

"But it's so beautiful here, so peaceful. Do I have to return, Prophet?"

"No, you don't have to. It's your choice."

"Don't you think I'd be happier staying where I am?"

"You know the answer to that Child."

The Child thought deeply as she sat on the lily pad. Do I have the perseverance needed to go on, to achieve my dreams? She asked herself, and for the first time, she noticed that the whale seemed restless.

"What 's wrong with Mr. Whale?"

"He's waiting for you to decide."

"What has my decision got to do with him, Prophet?"

"He's ready to move on and can't, until he knows what you're going to do."

"Do you mean the whale wants to go?"

"Yes, Child. He has to move on."

"But what will I do without him, Prophet?

"If you decide not to return, you don't need him."

"Oh, Prophet, what shall I do?"

"What do you want to do, Child?"

"I want to stay, and yet, I want to continue on."

"And that means?"