Flower in the Garden

The Garden was vast; an ever growing miasma of chaos and entropy. Darkness poured all throughout, with pockets of Light dotting, spawning their delicate fruits. Weeds spawned from the darkest pockets, reeking of putrid rot and bring forth parasites that would leech what it could off the fruits. All was sectioned off as best as it could, most contained in great swirling galaxies where most of the more beautiful creations were hidden in the cosmic gas and heat and energy.

The Gardener appeared; a brilliant burst of Light announcing her presence. Her sharp eyes scanned across the fields for anything that intruded upon her work and saw nothing. Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed for rot and smelled nothing. She relaxed, the Light within her softening. It was time to make her rounds. Hooked on her arm was her trusty wicker basket that was usually filled with seeds to sow across the Garden. Right now it was empty, ready to take in what could be harvested. But also there were the children. Her children, of course, for the Gardener was also a Mother.

She walked across a path of Light, the stars quickly scattering out of her path. She looked at them with a curious eye and held out a gloved hand. Obediently, one star hovered into her awaiting fingers and she studied it for a moment. A pleased smile stretched onto her lips and the bright fruit was delicately placed into her basket. Soon a few more were plucked as she made her way, and she nibbled on one as she reached her first stop.

Before her was a small patch of rocks and gases, caught in the embrace of a bigger, brighter sun, nearly lost in the oppressive sprawl of Darkness. What grew here were all beautiful and wondrous in their own right, but the Gardener focused her attention on one in particular. A tiny, pale blue orb harboring the most precious thing of all: Life. Not just life. Her children. From a distance she watched, her heart overflowing with love. Their voices echoed across the chasm. They did not know her and that fact made her heart ache. But, still, their presence was a balm and it soothed her very soul all the same.

This orb was its own garden and her children did not always do a great job in maintaining it. The decay touched her nose and she could see the yellowing spots speckled around. It saddened her, but the choice was not hers. But her heart would not allow her to do simply nothing. And so, she began to softly sing, her Light slowly growing to a gentle haze as it washed over the little solar system. Rain began to fall on drought riddled ground. Violent storms lost their fervor. Crops that struggled began to flourish. The Gardener's gentle lullaby was not heard but felt. Those whose hearts were heavy with despair suddenly looked to the sky with new hope they couldn't explain. The endless sounds of gunfire and death abruptly ceased in warzones, combatants from both sides suddenly meeting in spontaneous truces, where they shared stories, drinks, and food. Those who looked upon their fellow man with contempt and prejudice, now did so with newfound compassion. On this golden day, there was an inescapable feeling of peace.

The Gardener smiled. The little orb glowed in her Light, as if her children smiled back. She focused on them, listening to their woes. There were so many little voices and she couldn't hope to get to them all. There were many more stops to make in the Garden and she could not stay too long. But she listened as best as she could.

One voice called out, heavy in desperate prayer: a mother who had given birth twice only for the cruel universe to snatch them both as soon as they came. She was in labor and wailing to the heavens to spare her third child. Tears welled in the Gardener's eyes and she focused her Light. The woman was in incredible pain. The Gardener sang and the woman quieted in a blissful trance. Moments later, the healthy baby, a girl, was held in her mother's arms, which trembled with indescribable relief. And the Gardener was overcome with joy.

But the Gardener also sensed something more. Something that others would not see for a few more years. This was gentle soul; delicate and frail but full of love and kindness. Such a flower could be trampled in this cruel, indifferent universe. It would require an ever attentive hand to guide her. But the Gardener would be too busy; the immense Garden hid so many other patches of children who cried out against the Darkness for whatever may respond. So she closed her eyes and focused her vast mind and Light. She envisioned a little companion who would stand by her side all of her life, filled with all of the Gardener's love. This little friend would be found by the new mother's attending nurse, who felt a strong compulsion to gift him to the newly born daughter. The baby girl, wailing with tears, as all newborns did, immediately quieted upon receiving the teddy bear in the red bow tie, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. And though everyone saw his little arms embrace the newborn, no eyes narrowed in suspicious, but rather smiles stretched on lips.

His name is Mr. Snuggles, the nurse had said to the new mother, who was too overcome with relief to question the name. The nurse, herself, did not know where the name had come from. Hours later, as she lay in bed, she thought of the little bear and how his name had simply popped into her mind, as if whispered in her ear. She would dismiss the thought and drift off to sleep

The Gardener beheld the newborn daughter. She beheld all of her children on their small, pale blue dot, which glowed tranquilly with Light. A smile stretched on the Gardener's lips, tears trailing down her cheeks. Her heart was beating, simply overcome with powerful, undeniable love that caused the Light glow brighter. And yet, it was bittersweet. She could not stay. There was much more work to do throughout the Garden, which held many more patches of her wonderful children, all of whom cried out against the Darkness for whatever may respond.

And so, with a heavy heart, the Gardener turned from little Earth, giving one last longing look over her shoulder. They were so peaceful now. It wouldn't last. Of course it wouldn't. That was the way of the universe. But at least she had brought some tranquility to them. And that was enough. It would have to be. You took what you could find out in the Garden.

The Gardener walked on, singing softly, though her tune more somber. Still, her notes echoed towards the little planet, which glowed in response. She sang a little louder, hoping her Light would reach her poor children, now left alone in the Darkness.

Eventually, the Gardener waded through the brush and continued on, her notes echoing distantly before fading away.

She was gone.