The Great Garden and Man

The waterfall spilled over the mountain side crashing down like a thunderbolt into the river below. The river sparkled like a million diamonds as the sun rays warmed the swirling water. Down into the lush green valley, the water brought life to the Great Garden, through the orchards which lay like pomegranate quilts upon the earth.

The sheep were grazing in the pastures, as a lioness lazed out in the meadow. A wolf gave playful chase to a butterfly, while the wildebeest waded into the cool, swirling Tigris. It was a typical day in the Garden for Havah, as she lay in the grass frolicking with her mate, Man. Life had continued on with such majesty for the past twenty-five years of Havah's life. She and Man had named all the animals in their domain.

They had free access to the upper levels of the universe, without any restrictions as to where they might travel. However, they never ventured outside the Great Garden. Not out of fear. Fear was a foreign word, not yet conceived in the human gene. Their was nothing, but unconditional love inside this great kingdom that the Creator called Earth. He taught Man the uses for herbs, the meaning of the stars, the language of the animals. Without question, Man and Havah followed His divine decree – only that they eat not of the tree in the midst of the Garden.

Now, out of all the animals of the field, the serpent was far superior. Unlike the other beasts, he walked on two feet. His skin was most attractive and pleasing to the eye. Most of all, he was cunning and wise. He was the king of the animal kingdom, second only to Man.

As Havah lay giggling in the grass, Man got to his feet. “I must be going,” he said, “for I would not keep the Creator waiting.” It was his custom to walk in the cool of the evening with the Creator. They discussed the creatures of the kingdom and mysteries of the universe. Man always anticipated this walk, for he learned so much from the Creator and he knew how much the walks meant to the Creator.

Havah dozed off into a peaceful sleep until a shadow passed over the light of the sun. “Splendor, to you, my lady,” said a deep, husky voice.

Havah awoke somewhat sluggish and smiled. “And splendor to the Creator, Serpent.” She replied. “What brings you into the midst of the Garden, Serpent?”

“Only tender grapes, my lady” he said, as he smiled mischievously through his dark eyes. “As fair and tender as your skin. Delicate as your fingertips.”

Havah felt an odd tingle rise in her cheeks. She had never heard words so pleasing to the ears, nor seen a beast so pleasing to the eyes. His cheeks were high and his chest was thick with muscle. He held his head proud on his broad shoulders.

“You're arms are like boughs of the great tree in the mist of the garden,” he continued, “You're hair is like a flock of goats on the mountain. You're eyes are as the eyes of a dove. Where is this great tree?”

Havah knew quite well that the tree was forbidden. For it contained the mysteries of the knowledge of good and evil. Opposite it, the Creator had planted the most fruitful tree ever planted in the Great Garden. This tree contained twelve kinds of fruit and its leaves dripped of power and might.

Havah quickly said, “We may eat of any of the fruit trees in the garden, of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, the Creator has said, 'You shall not eat of it, nor will you touch it, or you will die.”

But the serpent replied, “Surely, you will not die. For the Creator knows that when the day comes that you eat of it, your eyes will be enlightened, and you will be as gods, knowing both good and evil.”

Havah again felt the unfamiliar tingle rise up in her cheeks, as the serpent's hand caressed her shoulder. She felt vulnerable, which was very new for her. She had only felt this way in the presence of Man and the Creator. His hand brushed her side and she melted into his arms.

When Havah awoke, she knew that she was in the midst of the Garden, under the branches of the great tree of the knowledge of good and evil. She was alone. Her heart raced and she ran to find Man. However, as she ran, she was aware that the animals were looking at her and she felt a tingle in her cheeks. Yet, this tingle was not like before. This tingle made her feel ashamed.

She found Man under a great oak and told him, “Come, Man. I found a great treasure in the midst of the Garden.” Man followed her wondering where she could be leading him. When he arrived at the tree, he saw a leaf falling to the ground. That was when he noticed. There were more, many more leaves lying about the tree. This was unusual. He had never seen anything like this before.

Suddenly, he turned to see that Havah was handing him fruit. “What have you done?” he asked. “Have you not heard the Creator say that this fruit is forbidden. He gave us all the fruits in the field, the apple, the orange, the fig, the olive, the grape and countless more. But He only restricted us to this one tree. How could you have disobeyed Him.”

Havah again felt a tingle arise in her cheeks. But this time, the tingle came much faster and much hotter. She felt anger. “Man, you were not here. The serpent seduced me and brought me here. I told him of the Creator's commandment, but he continued to press me. I could not overpower him.”

Man suddenly realized the plight. The Creator would kill his mate and he would be alone. He could not bear that feeling again. He could not stand the feeling of being alone as he was before the Creator had created Havah. So, he reached out his hand and embraced her with all of his heart, with all of the love in the universe. Even the rays of the sun bent around her as he held her. She was his love.

Suddenly, the leaves began to fade from the tree and Man looked down. He was ashamed of himself and hid himself among the bushes. Havah took fig leaves from a nearby tree and a vine. She began to weave an apron.

The night was dark and much cooler. Man snuggled closer to Havah for comfort. She could feel his warm breath on her delicate skin.

The wind began to moan. Man awoke with a start. He was unaccustomed to this rapid feeling in his chest. Fear. Was that the Creator calling? Maybe it was a screech owl. Man tried to relax, but the sound of his own heartbeat only produced only more fear.

Man awoke to a beautiful sun, but anxiety filled his heart. What would he tell the Master of the universe? Surely, he would be brave and explain that he did this to cover for his mate. Surely, his bravery would touch the heart of the Creator. Throughout the day, he continued to rehearse his defense to the Divine One.

The sun sank low in the western sky, as Man crouched in the shadow of the mountain. He heard the voice tenderly calling, “Man, where are you?”

Man stood to his feet, his head hanging guiltily over. “I heard you calling in the garden and I was afraid. So I hid myself, because I was naked,” he said

“Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten of the tree that I commanded you not to eat of?”

Suddenly, Man's heart trembled with unbridled fear. All of the bravery, all of the heroism he had rehearsed was forgotten in a moment. “The mate that you gave me to be with me, she gave me fruit from the tree and I ate it.”

So the Creator turned and spoke to the woman, “What is this that you have done?”

But Havah replied, “The serpent seduced me, and I did eat.”

To this, the Creator turned to the serpent and said, “You are cursed above all beast and cattle. You will from now on crawl upon your belly and lick the dust of the earth. And there will be hatred between you and the woman forever. You will strike at her heal, but her seed shall crush your head.” And Havah, He said, “Your pain and anguish will be multiplied during childbirth and conception and your desire will be for your husband and he will rule over you.”

Then He turned to Man and said, “Because you listened to the voice of your wife and did partake of her sin, you will reap thorns and thistles in the earth and eat vegetables of the field, and will sweat as you eat your bread, until you return to the ground that you came from.”

Yet in His love, the Creator found a ram that had caught it's horn's in a bush. He then slaughtered the ram and made robes for Man and Havah. It was then that He decided man must leave the Great Garden forever. For Man and Havah had tasted the knowledge of both good and evil and if they then ate of the tree of twelve fruits and healing leaves, they would live forever.

Death was the atonement for their sins and they could never atone without blood. Therefore, the Creator drove them out of the Great Garden toward the west. He then placed two of His magnificent swordsmen at the gate, with glittering swords, which looked in every direction. They were placed there to guard the way to the Tree of Life.