image from thesherwood group.com
“If God granted me a second chance, a rebirth, but with
only one wish, I’d search for you all over again.”
I was running through a terrible storm, deep in the forest,
my raincoat saturated, my ball cap soaked, my jeans
sticking to my legs, & my boots making squishing noises
as I ran. The giant thrashing conifers were like a behemoth
maze. I had no idea what direction I was headed in--twisting
& turning all the way.
Against a lightning flash I could see an outcropping thrusting
out of cliffs as tall as windowless sky scrapers. I stepped out
of the trees & plunged into cavernous darkness. But in the
distance I could make out a bright light, so I moved toward it.
Sweet cedar wood smoke wafted into my space. I was finally
out of the deluge.
So it was that I happened onto the cabin, constructed of rough-
hewn twisted timbers, held together with fat wooden pegs &
white adobe mud; something older than written history, & it
beckoned to me through large well-lit leaded glass windows.
The front door was easily ten feet tall, with carved faeries &
dwarves & elves on it. I opened it easily with the brass gargoyle
handle, & stepped inside. It was brightly lit by several large oil
lanterns, made of many-colored glass. It was toasty-warm, with
a roaring fire ablaze in a large stone fireplace.
Welcome, wet stranger, come in & dry out as you realign your
aura, center your cosmic flow, intensify your Christ conscious-
ness, & heal your pain.
A very tall wizard sat in a redwood rocker, & his huge hat
shadowed his eyes.
“Is it safe.”
Safer than where you just came from. Go ahead & remove your
wet garments before you catch your death.
Oddly, I didn’t hesitate, stripping off my storm-soaked clothes. If this
was an illusion, it was a damn good one. I needed to dry off. My clothes
steamed while lying on the stone ledge, as I sat calmly on a white
wicker chair in my damp underwear.
“Are you real?”
Very much so, for a fortunate few.
“And I’m one of those?”
“What are you called?”
There are those who call me Hie R. Selff. What can I do
What do you want? You are entitled to one wish.
“Are you shitting me?”
Young sir, I shit you not.
He puffed on a long slender pipe as I sat staring into the fire,
watching the bone-dry cedar pop with lovely combustion.
Without hesitation, suddenly I said,
“I want the cancer to disappear permanently from my wife’s body.”
He looked through me with his piercing golden-green eyes;
smiling, he said: Of all the wonderful things in the whole world,
that’s all you want?
“Yes, if you just heal my wife, I will be deliriously happy.”
Fine. Just close your eyes now, & concentrate on your wife’s
face. You will awaken back in your truck at the trailhead. Drive
home safely--when you get there your sweet wife will want
to share her good news.
When given just one
wish, think outside your own self;
share the good fortune.
Posted over on With Real Toads