A faint voice whispered into his thoughts. But I made the plants, Kane. Wouldn’t you like to get acquainted with the Creator of all this beauty? He frowned. Why bother talking to someone whom I can’t see? If he was truly there, why did he hide himself from us? Mom said it was our sins that formed cataracts’ on our eyes. She knows He is here. She can feel His presence. Well, it was alright for a women to have those kinds of thoughts, but not he! Not Kane! He thought it was so uncool especially that his Dad would try to talk to some invisible Presence. What good did he get from it?
Kane covered his ears. This annoying voice, well thoughts, kept buzzing away in to his mind. It was more irksome than a mosquito. But, Kane, isn't this beautiful, lush garden a gift from the Father's benevolent hand? That made Kane feel more sullen than ever. This garden is nothing, nothing compared to the one Mom described to me. His hands tightened into fists. She talked about roses so big my arms couldn’t have wrapped around them, but so exquisitely delicate looking one would think they could be marred with a touch, but never were.
He pounded his fist, once, against his knee. Why did we haveta leave such a glorious place? Why did I have to inherit my Dad’s love fer gardening? The biggest of these roses ain’t no larger than the breadth of my hand, no matter how much I nourish them. And the weeds! Oh, those pesky weeds! They are so prolific! If I didn’t keep after them constantly, they would choke out those tender seedlings I planted just the other day.
He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and looked up into his father’s kindly but sad face.
“How’s it going, son?”
“Oh, Dad, why does it always have to be so hard? I started a circle of maple trees to surround Sunbeam Lake but the weeds are continually encroaching upon them.”
“But, they are growing fast, son. The trees I mean. Already some of them are turning into vibrant reds and oranges even though they are so young, and by the time they are all changed back to green, others will be showing their gayest colours. They must be a foot taller than last week. You have a wonderful talent for making things look beautiful.”
Kane was silent for a moment. “But the weeds, Dad. And the thorns. They are even worse than the weeds! How did you ever manage to care for the roses on the estate? The thorns are just terrible.”
Manley looked down, and scuffed his toe in the sand.
“There were no thorns, son.”
“See, that’s just what I mean! Your Father is so harsh and unjust to take away all that’s lovely from us.”
Manley’s eyes darkened with pain. “Sometimes I feel like that, to. But really He isn’t.”
Kane’s shoulders stiffened. He didn’t want to listen to Manley’s defences.
“Really, it could have been a whole lot worse, " Manley continued.
Kane looked down to hide his scowl. "Worse? Worse than this?"
Manley’s sigh was barely audible. “You better help tend the vegetables so your mother can put some soup in the pot.”
Kane hooked his thumbs into his belt and sauntered over to where the vines of gourds and pumpkins were sprawling out in riotous profusion. “Need help, Ma?”
“Yes. If you could just help me tie these vines to some supports I put up, we could walk through our garden without crushing things.” She looked hot and flushed but happy.
“You don’t seem to mind all the hard work,” he observed.
“Mind? Oh, Kane I love gardening. It makes me feel so close to the Father when I toil among the plants.”
Kane’s brow rose. “But isn’t it a constant reminder of how good it once was?”
He watched his mother closely to see if he could see a flicker of resentment in her eyes, but it didn’t appear,
“Son, the Father is good. He knew if we toiled in a garden it would draw us closer to Him.
Kane’s lips tightened. It didn’t me.
“ I have a tremendous longing to be close to Him like we were in the estates, but can never quite attain it,” Sheila continued. Tears sprung into her eyes and she wiped them away with the sleeve of her flowing white gown. “The pain in my heart at having rashly squandered something of such great value, is almost intolerable at times.”
“So!” Kane spoke through gritted teeth. “And you still say the Father is good?”
“He is good, son. Very good. It was we that failed. Not Him. He still comes to us in the cool of the day. It is such a joy to commune with Him.”
“But now he requires a sacrifice. A bloody sacrifice.”
Sheila sank down on a huge tree that had toppled and brushed her hand over her forehead.
“It could have been so much worse. He could have taken our lives--in anger-- for our disobedience. The sacrifice is symbolic of something I don’t really understand, yet following His commands gives me peace of mind, and in here.” She pressed one hand against her heart.
Kane didn’t respond, so she continued.
“It was because I thought I knew better than God what was good for me and decided to take my own way, that so much trouble came to the human race.”
Tears had been pooling in her eyes, but now they overflowed and she buried her head in her hands. Another son, whom they didn’t realize was listening, stepped forward and knelt at his mother’s side.
The fair haired lad gently wiped the tears from his mother’s eyes.
“Don’t blame yourself too harshly, Mama dear. I’m sure if I would have been in your sandals, I would have been just as tempted. It is so easy to be drawn away from His Presence, but He is forgiving.”
Black rage filled Kane’s heart when he saw them together so cozy like. Mother always did like Lawley better than me.
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