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Melancholia
by
Theresa Allen
Why so sad Papou? Why the mile long sighs? Why do you cry?
Don't you see what you have? Don't you see why it is special? Not just everyone
has it. It is worth a lot. Yes, it is so valuable, you must keep a close watch
on it. Someone might try to steal it from you. Why don't you cherish what you
have? Why must you want something else? Isn't it enough?
This gift that God gave you, I wish you could see it from another's eyes. Would
that open up your eyes, your heart? Would that quench the hunger and need?
If I tell you what I see, do you promise to let the sun shine again? Will you
understand? Will you see how this is only my simple, childlike way of trying to
chase away the rain?
"A long time ago, God gave a handful of soil to a farmer. God told the farmer to
never loose the soil, that it was his reminder of where he came from. The farmer
put the soil in a goat skin bag and wore the bag on a leather string around his
neck. As long as he wore the bag, his crops flourished. Then, one day, a soldier
came to the farmer and ripped the bag off of its leather string and rode off
with his precious soil. The farmer's crops died. The ground dried up and refused
to produce. The soldier, when no crops would come, died of starvation. Half dead
from sadness and hunger, the farmer found the soldier's body and reclaimed the
soil. The fields became fertile again and the world, once more, was at peace
with itself."
Why do you fight yourself, Papou? Don't you know how loved and respected you
are? Whatever you do, Papou, value your soil. Guard it well. Never let it out of
your sight. It is valuable. With it, you feed the rest of the world. Without it,
the rest of the world goes hungry.
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