The Power of the Rainbow

The Power of the Rainbow

Deborah Elliott

The ground shook, gray clouds boiled in the heavens, and the sea crashed into the shore with rock-shattering power. Rain was falling in great torrents, and the bitter wind was snapping and biting without mercy. The woman’s bones were weary and her resolve brittle, but still, she wrapped her cloak about her and put one foot in front of the other.

 The earth rolled and cracked; it spewed hot ashes that terrified her. The drifting cinders singed her skin. Repeatedly she stumbled and fell, tearing hide from her knees that would undoubtedly leave story-telling scars. No matter how many times she was slammed to the hard, unforgiving ground, she forced herself to get up and keep walking because something within insisted that she do so.

When the journey took her out along the shore, the sea spray clung to the sharp wind, and it threw icy darts her way. Weary tears froze on her face but she tipped her chin up in a defiant manner and kept walking. Her path was a mystery that unfolded with each step. She thought about the many times she had made her way without knowing her purpose; for that matter, she well knew that all of humanity did the same thing. To her, it seemed counter-productive to live life without knowing one’s purpose, but it wasn’t like she had ever been given a choice.

Making her way this day, she wondered why she was the one who had been put on this strength stealing path, resented that she wasn’t beside a warm, nurturing fire while another shivered and struggled to bear up under nature’s wrath. The answers weren’t forthcoming and her exhaustion took chunks out of her willpower.

When the great sheets of rain tried to wash her from the mountainside, she had come too far to give up, so she hung on tightly, refusing to be strayed from her path. As the night grew blacker, each step was harder earned than the one before it. 

Finally, just when she thought that surely, she could go no farther, she looked up to see before her a sliver of golden light around the top of the mountain, finally within reach. The light was encouraging, and so she pressed on. Each step that brought her closer to the top, so too, brought welcome warmth. 

When the woman, at last, stood upon the majestic peak, she gratefully turned her face unto the growing light. As if it had received a great command, the wind stilled, and the rain settled unto a delicate mist. Before her eyes, a great arch of color rose high and shimmered brightly in the sky. The woman let her eyes drink in the miracle before her. She saw the green of new life in the spring, blue of life-sustaining water, and the yellow of warmth and nurturing. She too saw the red of life's blood and passion, the purple of wisdom and authority, and the indigo of twilight, where thought and reflection could be found. 

The woman was honored, for she realized that she had been brought to this place, to receive the gifts of the arch. Despite how near the arch seemed, the woman could see that it was going to take some extra effort to reach it. She took a deep breath, turned her palms upward, raised her arms high, and lifted up on her toes. As her palms grazed the end of the powerful arch, it softly trembled and shook out into her hands, its amazing colors.

When the woman stood down and looked into her hands, she saw in her right hand four stones. They were green, blue, red and yellow. In her left sat stones of purple, and indigo. 

Instinctively knowing that the gift she had been given was not something to be held unto her heart in a selfish manner, she whispered her gratitude, and then she began her journey back down the treacherous mountain. The path down was no easier than the path up; in fact, the danger seemed to have increased ten-fold. Many times the woman fell, and as she did, she clenched tight her hands, refusing to drop the precious gift that she had been given.

It seemed the elements were determined to take from her that which had been entrusted to her care; that which she had worked hard to be worthy of; that which she was supposed to carry back and share. It would never do to falter and lose such a miraculous treasure. After much thought, the woman popped the stones one by one into her mouth and swallowed them. Once her hands were free it was much easier to hold to her path. Ultimately, she made it safely off the mountain.

The years passed, and the woman did indeed share the colors, as she was meant to do. Because of the beautiful green and blue stones, she brought forth life, because of the yellow, she nurtured it warmly. The red stones helped her to protect it passionately, and the purple stones lent wisdom unto her deeds.

The indigo, that she did save for herself, for she realized that was something not meant to be given, more it is meant that each woman should work to find her own. On this day, so many years from when she had once climbed the mountain, the woman smiled in thought and peaceful reflection.

Eve, the first world mother, set forth, “There is no greater task than that of womanhood. Henceforth, all women from now forward, are to carry the nurturing stones within. The beautiful blue and green stones are to ensure new life, both on the land, and in the sea. The yellow and red will help her nurture and protect all living things. The wisdom of the purple stone is meant to be a guiding force for all of those that she holds close.” Eve made a special note regarding indigo because, she fervently declared, “If a woman doesn’t take care of herself, she can’t take care of anyone else. When the colors of the rainbow are responsibly shared, each woman will have earned the right to seek out her peaceful thought and reflection.”