"Kindness becomes you, Mr. Whale," The Child
mumbled while asleep.
Dawn had slowly lightened up the sky, but the Child,
exhausted from the last struggle with the mean-spirited wave, was still
sleeping on the whale holding on to its dorsal fin.
"Where are you, Prophet? Where, oh where, where are
you?" The Child sang softly as it slept.
"I am here, Child."
"Where?"
"Ahead of you?"
The Child awoke thinking it was a dream.
"I don't see you."
"Look again. I'm ahead of you."
The Child looked out onto the vast ocean. From a distance,
a fire was burning.
"What are you doing, Prophet?"
"I'm preparing breakfast. How does fresh fish sound?"
"With hot oatmeal?"
The Prophet let out a barrel of laughter.
"No oatmeal Child, but a nice hot bowl of tasty
seaweed mixed with a tangy sauce."
"Oh Prophet, you can't imagine what I went through,"
The Child said as the whale neared the lily pad. Sliding off its back, the
Child walked on the water to the lily pad talking excitedly. "I flew
through the air with the whale, and we mastered two giant waves."
"Three gigantic waves, Child, and before the third
wave you cried."
"Who told you?"
"Child, wherever you are, I am. You are never alone."
"How far do I have to go, Prophet?"
"Come eat and then you'll sleep comfortably on your
lily pad."
"For how long, Prophet?"
"Did you enjoy conquering the waves, Child?"
Shalom,
Pat Garcia
