To Change The World

by bartermn

*you have new mail* flashed in the lower, left-hand corner
of the screen. Brian hit enter and found the short note from
earthmom@bio.net. He whispered, "Thank you Great Spirit" as he
read the message, finally a possible sale, maybe the electric bill
will get paid before it's shut off. He clicked a few more times and
let the cow screensaver roam the machine for the rest of the day,
he had to go to work.


Brian walked to his woodshop, a 12x24 foot lean-to attached
to the barn. Exchanging his carhart jacket for a worn leather
apron, he hit the switch for the lights and opened a window.
The cool November breeze whistled and a robin sang a sweet song
through the opening. He chose a chisel and began to carve.
Daisy-Mae supervised at the dutch door and provided the bass with
a low moo. Tiger the barn cat stretched, then added the tenor.
Brian hummed the melody and occasionally burst into a favorite
chorus to a country song. When the clock on the wall read
twelve noon he covered his work for the last time, it was done.
Brian shut the window, turned off the lights and put his tools away.
He carefully locked the door to the shop then walked back to the
cabin. The bread machine had cooled down enough to remove it's
daily loaf. He fixed a sandwich of leftover roast beef with
cheddar cheese and carried it to his truck. He ate while he drove,
mind racing with questions for earthmom.
 

He found the address she had e-mailed and pulled into the
drive. The house was old but well kept. The lawn had recently
been mowed and there was a line of tulips along each side of the
walk. The door opened as he reached for the doorbell.
 

"Come in, Brian." The tall redhead said softly.


Brian couldn't move, it was her, every feature exactly
matched his carving! He stuttered, "H-ha-how? I-I mean,
how did you know?"


"The same way you knew to carve it, I'll explain if you'll
come in." She led Brian to a polished, round-oak kitchen
table and asked if he'd like some coffee. He nodded yes and sat
down, not taking his eyes off the beautiful woman. 


When the cup was set before him, the woman took a chair and
told a tale that would lead Brian on a trail far from the source
of his peace, his tiny homestead. She said, "We may all be from
the heavens but while on this planet, in this short lifetime
only a few can focus with your intensity on being a human animal
on a solid world. Most people continue to dream of their home in
the sky, our beginning and our end. You, my friend can see the
middle ground, you live in the here and the now. You are connected
to nature as are all the four legged creatures in your barn and
in the wild. They know, as you know that this life will end and
the substance of which our bodies are made will feed others when
they come down for their trials. You can see the faces in
the stone and in the trees. You can hear the wind talk. The
sounds you hear, the faces you see are the souls who have yet to
be tried."


Brian interrupted, "Why did your face appear in the log I
 carved?"


"My trial has begun. There are many others waiting for you to
give them birth, you must find them and set them to their course."