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The Story of the Master Gardener |
A symbolic story of our tragedy on April 9, 1998.
By: Bethe Feltman
Updated: 12/14/99
Dedicated to my wonderful husband, Wade, who continues to hold my hand,
in love, as we walk together, through the spectacular garden, our master
gardener has blessed us with.
Inspired by Gere Bustos, a staff member on ACBU, who has patiently shared
her love of gardening and weed pulling with me, while offering her words
of encouragement, each time we've chatted in the patients' garden....
Inspired also by Karl Maldonado, my therapist on GW-5, who genuinely
cared about my wellbeing.... Who gave, and gave of his
time and listening ear, even when I shared issues that were very difficult for
him to listen to, because of his own love for his grandchildren.
Most of all, this story is inspired by the many, many people who have
touched my life.... There are too many to list family, friends, students,
teachers, professionals in the medical and legal feilds above all else,
this story is inspired by our beautiful children Benjamin Wade and Moriah
Elizabeth, who now live and play at our master gardener's feet.
I see my life as a windy path next to a beautiful, clear, blue lake. As I walk
along this path, I notice that the path is sandy in some spots, and rocky in
others. Lately, it seems as though all I see is a rocky path. Some rocks are
too large to scale by myself.... As I approach these huge boulders, along my
path, I begin to panic just when I think I am going to fall, I see hands
reaching out to offer me assistance. Some of the hands are very small,
some large, some smooth and some rough. Some of the rough hands, feel as
though they have stickers coming out of them. As I readily grab on to
these rough hands... I feel a sharp pain, like a sting. I quickly let go of these
hands and I slip several feet down the rock's face. I get more scared... and
more uncertain of my surroundings. As I attempt to regain some of my
human strenth, I again see many hands reaching out to help me. A few of
the hands I recognize, but most of them seem as strangers to me. As I watch,
I notice that a few of the hands, which reach out to help me, have been
there for me, over every rock along my entire path. They are terrific rock
climbers, with an indescribile amount of strength... Strength that seems to
be stronger than any human strength could ever be. Other hands seem to
come and go. I do notice that new hands are always coming along my path,
I am so very thankful for all the hands that have come to support me.... I am
certainly blessed beyond measure.
I do notice that, where ever I am... whether the path is sandy or rocky,
there always appears to be a warm, gentle hand.... a very large, almost
transparent hand, that seems to rest very lightly on my shoulders, this
hand radiates such comfort and strength to me... sometimes, I feel, in my
humanness, unworthy to receive the comfort this very large hand offers,
and I try to brush it off of my shoulder. No matter how hard I try to turn
away from this hand's comfort, it seems to always rest upon me.
I also notice that whenever I am trying to overcome a difficult rock, there
is always the same cluster of hands very close to me, offering
understanding. There are always three hands in this cluster.... Two of the
hands are very, very small. One slightly larger than the other..... they
are always radiating.... a bright, pure light. these little hands are so
perfectly formed, and so delicate to my eyes, that I can only glance at
them for a moment.... usually when I am trying to ascend up the most
difficult parts of the rocks in my path. With these two little, precious
hands is a larger hand. It seems as though this hand has been through a
battle..... This hand always comes to my side, especially when I am trying to
reach the summit of a rock. I easily tire on my ascension, and this hand
pulls me up, over the top, of the rocks. As a result, this larger hand is
covered by cuts, scratches, and bruises. There are bandaids covering most
of the wounds on this large, strong hand. Occasionally, one of the
bandages comes off and I see a deep, oozing wound that is bruised to the
bone. I weep, when I see the pain these wounds have caused.... I know this
hand will be forever scared by my weakness.
Is I try to look ahead, along the path I must travel, I see both sandy spots
and rocky cliffs. Although I do not know what I will encounter from this
moment forward, I know, beyond doubt, that the very large, warm,
transparent hand will always be there to guide me along my course.... It
only seems natural... as I reflect over my entire path, I notice that this
hand has held and sustained me, even before I began walking. To me, this is
unconditional love..... Do I take unconditional love for granted?
As I have traveled on my path, I have scattered some wildflower seeds.
These seeds have blown through the air and have taken root along the
most sandy part of my path. Before I scattered these seeds, I put them in my
hands. I looked at the seeds and admired their differences.... Each one is so
different.... each one, a special gift.... I know I will need to ask the master
gardener for his assistance in helping these seeds become the unique
flowers they are made to be. As I water the seeds consistantly and gently,
they grow and bloom into beautiful flowers which, together, become a
beautiful flower garden.
Slowly, weeds began to spring up in my beautiful flower garden. At first,
as I was resting, spending time looking at the clouds... some small, deep
green vines started growing on the ground in my garden. At first, I
admired their beauty, as I had never seen anything quite like these "plants"
before..... I eagerly searched for hikers, along my path, that I could share
these "plants" beauty and uniqueness with. The hikers looked at these
new "plants" in wonder and in question... Time quickly passed, before I
knew it, this unknown ground covering was spreading rapidly throughout
my entire garden, one morning, when I awoke from my slumber, I realized
that these new vines were covering the entire ground of my beautiful
garden... When I examined these ground coverings more closely, I noticed
that, the tiny, thin, innocent vines were beginning to choke one of the
flowers. I was confused as to what was happening in my garden. After I
exhausted all of my own resources.... I was totally zapped beyond my limits.
As a last resort, I finally turned to the master gardener, to ask his opinion.
I tried to describe this "mystery" plant to him. He quickly informed me that
this "plant" was not a "plant" at all but rather a weed.... One of the most
dangerous weeds that grew in local gardens. The master gardener told me
not to worry because he had a very special fertilizer that we could,
working together, mix into the soil of my garden. The master gardener
guaranteed me that his fertilizer would eliminate this devastating weed
for at least this growing season. I was in awe of the master gardener. As
he spoke, I noticed that he has very large hands.... Hands that I thought
looked strong and would be of great assistance to me, as I work in my
flower garden.
I asked where I could purchase some of the fertilizer. I knew that, if I
worked hard enough I could mix the fertilizer into the soil by myself,
without the assistance from anyone else. The master gardener told me
that he was the only one who had this fertuizer and that he would help
me, anytime I wanted, day or night, to mix the fertilizer into my soil. I didn't
want to take up any more of the master gardener's time.... so, I thanked him
for his assistance, and told him I would return, if I felt his help was needed
in getting rid of these weeds. As I was leaving the master gardener's home,
be quietly whispered, "By the way, my child, I offer my fertilizer free of charge,
to you and to anyone who would like to receive it. Just ask, and you will
receive it.... You won't ever owe me anything.... It's truly a free gift, and I
want you to receive it."
I quickly returned to my beautiful flower garden to check on the damage
done by this weed. I was relieved, as I noticed that, the damage to the
garden, was not as bad as I originally thought. I was very glad that this
weed was just on the ground so none of the other gardeners or hikers
would know that I had this weed in my beautiful flower garden.
upon further examination, of this weed, I knew I could pull it up very easily
by myself, I was exhausted from the emotions of the day..... so, I decided to
take a break and enjoy some of the summer's sun.
Before I knew it, darkness covered the land.... It was nighttime and all the
other gardeners and hikers had gone home for the day. I quickly became
scared of what this darkness might bring I ran in fear, down the path
towards my house. I noticed that the lights on the master gardener's home
were still shining brightly. I saw the master gardener standing near a
window in his home he raised his hand to wave to me as I looked at his
very large hand it looked so gentle, almost like it was radiating light.
As I continued to run down the dark path, thoughts of the very large hand
went through my mind something about this hand seemed somewhat
familiar to me.... as if I had seen it before.... I struggle to understand how
this very large hand could enhance my beautiful flower garden. I am
grateful for this light from the master gardener's home and hand ....it is
like a lamp unto my path, and a light unto my feet.... keeping me from
stumbling.
Early the next morning, I noticed very tall weeds, springing forth, in my
flower garden. I quickly tried to pull the weeds, using my human
strength before any of the other gardeners would notice them. It seemed
as though the faster and harder I tried to pull the weeds, the more
quickly other weeds came forth.... all sorts of weeds. I, in my human
strength, tried to pull every single weed by myself.... I was trying to hide,
the fact that I, am not a gardener at all... all I can grow are weeds, not
beautiful flowers like those seen in my garden.
As a result.... the, weeds began to take over... in the blink of an eye, my
garden, appeared to me, to be absolutely covered with weeds. I tried with
all my might to keep the weeds at bay, so that no other gardener would
see, what I thought was, my failure as a gardener. I became totally
consumed in pulling weeds.... Before I knew it, I was pulling weeds 24 hours a
day just to keep up, I didn't take time out to eat or to sleep, I was tired, I
was sweaty, I was very hot from the hot sun baking down on me. I was
dehydrating quickly. As long as I can remember, the very large, warm,
transparent hand has rested upon my shoulders. It was there again, as I
was pulling weeds, I was so hot from all the hard work, I perceived I
needed to do by myself, with my own human hands, that I tried, with all
the strength I had left, to throw this large, comforting hand off my
shoulders, as far away from me as I could. I had so many weeds to pull,
just to keep up. All I saw were weeds encroaching every part of my garden.
I became extremely hopeless.... I was convinced that all of my beautiful
flowers were completely ruined by the weeds which I didn't have the
strength left, in my humanness, to pull. My hands felt numb from weed
pulling, I noticed my gardening gloves were covered with dirt and mud
from the "hard work" I was doing.
Much, much later, another gardener told me that when I thought my
beautiful flower garden was completely ruined by the weeds.... The flowers
in the garden were infact thriving. This gardener said that the master
gardener was surrounding my flowers protecting them, for a time, from
the devastating weeds that were trying to choke them... The flowers were
more beautiful and fragrant than ever.
Also, the gardener told me, while I was "working hard" and very worried
about getting all the weeds pulled by myself, he always saw many, many
hands there waiting to help. He told me that he noticed that any time one
of the hands tried to pull up one of my weeds, I would become
upset.... resisting the help and making the hands feel trapped because they
didn't know what to do to help. The gardener also told me, sometime later,
that the hands which tried to help me weed the garden, would leave the
garden weeping and weakened. They were very sad because they felt like
they didn't know what to do to help. They knew that I was exhausted
beyond my human limitations and that my thoughts seemed to be quite
clouded... I was not as efficient as I usually was. Never-the-less, I wouldn't
let any of these loving hands help me uproot any of my weeds. These hands
knew that all I saw were the weeds and they were trying to show me that
the flowers in the garden were not completely ruined like I had thought.
Even now, after I have spent much time, contemplating what this gardener
told me, I cannot understand why I wouldn't let any of the hands help me
weed my beautiful flower garden also, I am shocked that I didn't see, with
my own eyes, the master gardener standing inside my flower garden,
protecting the flowers, which I was completely convinced were totally
ruined, from devastating weeds I guess I was trying so hard, with my
own strength, to hide the fact that I had weeds in my garden I didn't want
anyone else to know that I am not a gardener at all. I missed "seeing" the
master gardener because my eyes were focused on the weeds.... and I was
working so hard to "hide that I had weeds growing in my garden" from
everyone else, that I began to sweat. Everytime I tried to look up, away
from the weeds in my garden, the sweat dripped into my eyes, stinging
them completely.. disabling me... so I could see nothing nothing.... for a
very long time.
While I was trying to regain my vision I saw, with my blurred vision and
clouded mind, a figure dressed completely in black..... wearing a black
hooded sweatshirt and dark colored gardening gloves. This figure would
come to my garden most everyday for about a month's time. Everytme I
saw this figure, I was scared, as I felt this figure had evil intentions. I was
so afraid of what might happen to me and my beautiful flower garden, that
I didn't tell anyone about this figure dressed in black. I thought I was the
only one who knew that this figure was visiting my flower garden and that
what I saw terrorized me making me feel paralyzed. I was so panic
stricken that all I could see was the hopeless mess I was in... as if there
was no way out... all I saw was black and dark colored gardening gloves.
Looking back at it now, my mind was very strained during that time. The
master gardener's offer to help, and his very large hands of strength and
comfort were so far from my mind.... There was absolutely no way I felt I
had the energy to reach out and ask the master gardener or any of the
other gardeners for help. I rapidly became paranoid of everyone and
everything around me. Other gardeners tried to encourage me saying,
"You're so tired all you need is a good season of rest then you will be
able, once again, to be the awesome gardener you were made to be." I
wanted to believe them but somehow, I just couldn't accept what was being
said.
Early, on the morning of April 9, 1998, just 3 days before easter, I stood up,
after another fitfull night of sleeplessness, and ran frantically, to my
garden, to check on my flowers and to try to water them.... in hopes that I
could get "back on track" as a gardener, while I was watering the flowers,
I saw the figure dressed in black wearing a black hooded sweatshirt with
the dark colored gardening gloves on it's hands, approaching my garden. I
was totally scared. I jumped behind the nearest tree.... to hide from this
black clothed figure. I wanted to be close enough to my garden to protect
it. As I peeked at this figure, from behind the tree, I noticed that this figure
had a machete in it's hand... A hand that was covered by a dark colored
gardening glove. I was completely weakened with fear. I felt like I could
do nothing but watch what was happening before my eyes. As the figure got
closer and closer to me and my garden, I noticed that this figure was
rapidly swinging the machete all around. Just when I wanted to jump out,
in front of this figure dressed in black, I was frozen.... I realized that if we
fought, especially with the machtete, there would be blood everywhere... I
knew I didn't want there to be any blood or any cuts in flesh, around my
garden. so, I remained behind the tree, standing so very still. I couldn't
believe my eyes, this figure, wearing dark colored gardening gloves,
walked very quietly into my garden... All of a sudden, I saw many
flowers being chopped from the earth, scattered and flung into the
air... without any concern or care for their natural beauty or their
uniqueness... without regard for the master gardener's plan... of growing
the seeds into the flowers they were meant to be.
I closed my eyes, hoping that my beautiful flower garden... a gift from the
master gardener, would not be completely ruined. Initially, I didn't see
the destruction left behind from the unidentifiable figure who destroyed
my beautiful flower garden. I felt completely numb for a very long
time.. almost like I was in a daze.... totally removed from the situation.... I
was in complete shock. I have not been allowed to return to my garden, as
of this time.... I sense that there has always been something growing in my
garden.... I'm not quite sure, at this time, exactly what it is though.
Sometime later, other gardeners told me that when they came
to see what was going on, they saw me standing behind the tree, frozen,
with my eyes focused solely on the garden. One gardener told me she did
not even recognize me... She spoke to me and I didn't respond. I stood very
still and rigid, frozen in fright, even the gardeners who knew me best said I
didn't even look like the gardener they thought they knew. Quickly, I was
rushed away from my garden. I remember nothing and I must rely on what
other gardeners have told me. I've been told that "city folk' dressed in
sports coats kept trying to talk to the other gardeners... just to get
information about me and my garden. These gardeners told me that the
city folk dressed in sports coats, seemed to appear when the sun rose and
left long after dark, all the gardeners were angry with the hassle that
these "city folk" brought.
Not a day goes by that I don't think about the beautiful garden the master
gardener entrusted me with. Just remembering what the beautiful flower
garden looked like before the weeds began to take hold, makes me feel
completely saddened, as I imagine the garden now, I picture lots and lots
of flowers that have been cut from the earth, just laying all about.... most
of the flowers have become very dark and limp, as if life has left them. A
few of the flowers look as though their petals have been sliced and
bruised but their color and fragrance remain brilliant. This gives me hope
that those people passing by, may enjoy these flowers in the days ahead,
even though they're damaged.
In my imagination, I picture a rose bush right in the middle of my beautiful
flower garden.... I feel perplexed, as I know a rose bush is not a wildflower.
Certainly, the master gardener must have planted this beautiful, fragrant
peace rose. As I look more closely, I notice that even the rose bush is
damaged. Two of the four beautiful rose blossoms are severed completely
from their stems. I can only assume that the same figure wearing the dark
colored gardening gloves, damaged the rose bush as well. With
considerable observation, it seems to me that nothing in the garden has
gone without being damaged. Since stalks of the rose bush are stronger
and more stable than those of a wild flower, the figure swinging the
machete, did not completely cut any of the stalks, two rose blossoms
remain.... One of them was nearly chopped off, as the blade of the machete
took a big chunk out of the stem, leaving the rose hanging by a thin strand.
All of the petals of this rose, are bruised, making this rose almost
unrecognizable. I notice that the rose appears to be turning brown and all
the petals are tattered and torn. When I look closely, I see a small new
petal, showing growth, inside the weakened rose. I am in awe that there is
any type of growth at all on this rose. As I look closely, I notice that this
small, tiny, petal is extremely brilliant in color. I see a fourth rose
blossom. as I look, I am amazed, all of the petals are completely damaged
and there appears to be large gashes taken out of the stem. As various
onlookers pass by looking to see, for themselves, the damage done to the
garden, they are amazed that this rose is standing so strong. As time
passes, each petal begins to fall off, one by one. Surprisingly, each petal is
replaced by a more fragrant and brilliant petal.... as though this fourth
rose, tattered and torn, is becoming an even more beautiful flower.
As I let my imagination go, I begin to get sleepy...... I close my eyes for what
seems to be just a second..... the next thing I know is that I have fallen
asleep for a couple of hours. As I wake from my short nap, I recall the
dream I was having. I only vividly remember one part of the dream. I
dreamed that I was walking down a windy road.... beautiful, tall pine trees
sparcely dotted the shoulder of the road. As I proceeded, the road
curved... Soon I saw an awesome deep blue lake.... shimmering like diamonds in
the sun. I continued walking, soon I saw an old man standing just off the
road... I could see him from a distance.... It appeared as though all sorts of
people were flocking to this man.... taking the items he handed them. As I got
closer, I tried to recognize this man.... As I looked intently, I knew I had seen
him somewhere before.
I just couldn't place where we had met. I watched as people came and
went.... taking what was offered; using their hands, sharing with others.... I
finally decided to get close enough to see what this humble, gentle old
man was offering, I noticed that the man was pulling what appeared to be
fruit, off a small perfectly formed tree.... I approached the man and the
tree before I knew it, I saw the man reaching high upon the tree, picking a
piece of fruit. He gave the fruit to me saying, "Take this fruit and share it,
with many people."
Without knowing what this fruit was or what it tasted like, I asked the old
man, "May I help you pick fruit? I am much taller than you. Perhaps, I can
reach the fruit on the top of the tree." The old man responded, "Why of
course, my child, I cannot give this fruit without your help... I can use you to
take my fruit to people everywhere."
As I began picking the fruit, the old man said, "My child, your hands will get
scratched from the thorns on the branches. Allow me to give you some of
my gardening gloves to protect your hands." I agreed. These gloves felt
huge on my hands.... they felt as though they were lined with warm
sheepskin. We picked and gave away as much fruit as we could for the
day..... The sun began to set. I took off the gloves the old man lent to me.
He took off his gloves as well..... He thanked me for my help and expressed
his never ending need for my help with that, he held out his hand.... as I
reached out to shake his hand, I quickly looked down, I noticed his hand
was very large, almost transparent like, upon shaking this hand, I felt a
radiant warmth I know I have felt somewhere before. As I was trying to
place where I recognized this hand, the old man said, "Go now my child, take,
the fruit we have picked. Give it out among all the people you
come across as you travel... there are many people who are needy of this
fruit. Lo I will be with you always."
In the blink of an eye, this man seemed to have vanished... The fruit set at
my feet just waiting for me to give it to others as I stood in the cool,
crisp night air, listening to the lake girgle against its' shore... I began to
realize, I have yet to taste this fruit for myself.... I am absolutely
convinced, it must be awesome otherwise, the master gardener wouldn't
need any help in sharing this fruit with people everywhere. As I looked out
at the lake for a final time, I recalled before I began picking fruit, my
gardening gloves were dark in color and covered with mud. It seems as
though as soon as I began picking fruit and giving it away, the gardening
gloves, which I borrowed from the old man, were pure white without a
stain or blemish.. Gently a quiet whisper came off the still lake.... "Go now
my child, take my fruit to all the people you meet.... It is nourishment for the
body, and strength for the soul, for I am the master gardener, and you are
the unique rose I made you to be. Lo, I will be with you always."
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