Tears of The Great Mother of the Water and The Great Father of the Water

The children are all seated around the Great Mother, as the fire crackles and burns. Stars glimmer brightly in the sky. Nearby, the rush of water from the falls roars into the vast ocean, which laps it up eagerly, then spits it back up onto the rocky shore. The wind whistles in the palm trees. The village huts are glowing softly from candle light. The pigs are all settling down in their pens for the night and snuffling. The smell of smoke from the great fire and all the home hearths fill the night air.

“Tell us the story, Great Mother,” says one child in her native tongue. It is a beautiful language, very similar to that found on Terra called Spanish usually found in the Caribbean Islands and Spain.

Great Mother rocks in her chair and smiles at the children seated before her. She puffs gently on her long, slender, pipe. She is tan, and her dark hair is now streaked with many tendrils of white. She takes a deep inhalation of the spices then exhales, letting the vapors swirl over the heads of the little ones, creating a formation that looks like a scene from a storybook.

Great Mother begins to start a tale also in this native language. “It all started a very long time ago. La Estupenda Madre De La Agua (The Great Mother of the Water) and El Estupendo Padre De La Agua (The Great Father of the Water), were playing happily in the cosmic garden. The stars laughed at the sight. They were delighted. The waters on the planets nearby gave joy at their presence. What started out as mere play turned into a dance. They danced for so long that they flung themselves far and wide throughout the cosmos until they were at the far edges. Only there, did they notice that there was so little of themselves left. Everywhere they had gone drops of them had fallen like rain.” Great Mother takes a long deep breath, then rocks some more.

A small voice peeps up, “Were they going to disappear?”

Then another,”how would they make more rain?”

“What about the rest of the story?“asks another.

With another puff, Great Mother continues, “Of course they didn’t want to disappear now did they? We still have rain don’t we? And I will continue the story. The Great Mother of the Water and the Great Father of Water loved each other very much. Their tears fell. As their tears fell, Great Mother of the Water became pregnant with the love of Great Father of Water. She grew and grew. At the far edge of the cosmos it was very cold so The Great Mother of the Water was beginning to freeze. The Great Father tried to keep from freezing too. Their tears had kept them warm.”

Great Mother stops and takes another drag on her pipe, and she rocks some more. She looks at each child for a little, taking in each precious face. Their eyes are full of wonder. They are so beautiful. Each one has so much potential, so much value, and unknown talents. She wants to tell each one how much they are loved, not only by her, their village leader, but by every adult in the village. She wants to tell them that they are her future. They are their past. She hopes that in this story, that every one of their hearts will beat, and know this is the truth spoken from the first creation to her very lips and to their ears.

“Great Mother, where is he going to take her?” and “Will they make it?” are some of the questions that come next from the wee mouths of the babes.

“All great questions, and answers will come,” says the wisest of the village. “Soon, you will know. Where were we? Ah, yes,” she answers herself then clears her throat. “The Great Father of the Water pushed The Great Mother of the Water through the cosmos. Parts of them once of them dripped off onto the many stars and planets in the form of rain. The Great Father of Water was nothing more than a single drop by the time he got to the center of the Cosmos where it was nice and warm. Mother too was a drop, but left behind was a new planet that she had given birth to, and both drops fell into ocean in the planet. Now, every planet has water that can rise up and dance in the clouds in the form of vapor. When they rise up, people say that is The Great Mother of the Water and The Great Father of the Water. When they fall back down to the ground and into the waters, it is their tears falling back down again just as they did so long ago. The cycle continues over and over again. So, just as it happens here, it happens on every planet and every place in the cosmos.”

The elder breathes a ragged breath then lets it out. A couple drops of rain falls. A child lets out a scream of joy. “It’s The Great Mother of the Water’s tears!” They all start running around in the small drops of rain. It is not enough rain to put out the fire, but enough for each of them to feel on their skin. “Maybe, it’s The Great Father of the Water!” another child yelled out.

“Children! Children! Off to bed with ‘ye,” Great Mother yells then stands up and gets her walking stick out. She shakes it at the fire. Sparks fly up quickly at the night sky like racing dragons. “If you don’t, perhaps The Great Mother of Water and Great Father of Water will begin to fight and the thunder and lightning will start.”

At those words, the children start to run off in different directions, towards separate huts, some two or three to a hut. The elder begins to laugh softly at first, then a big belly laugh. She shakes her head with amusement. ‘That last part gets them every time,’ she thinks to herself. ‘Someone has to keep them in line. God and Goddess help me, but if they don’t keep me young.’

She walks to her hut and closes the door. She takes of her damp shawl and hood. She puts on a kettle to boil over the fireplace. The woman puts her feet near the fire to warm them. She makes a cup of tea using local herbs. It’s a bitter concoction, but it does the trick. As she kneels near an altar, there are two bowls. One is dark and one is light. Both hold water. She says a small prayer. She thanks the water for giving life. She thanks the God and Goddess for giving her planet life and giving her life. Then, she drinks her tea.

Before she goes to bed, she thinks of the gift she has been given, how grateful she is, and smiles once again. It is a huge responsibility to be leader of this village, but she would not trade it for anything. To tell the story of her world and of her people, is an honor; one she would do any day, help them remember their God and Goddess, every day. A tear runs down her cheek.