As I sat in the outside part of the coffee shop, I could not help but notice a mansion set up on a hill overlooking the valley that housed the town. The mansion was beautiful with grey stone walls and a high tower. You could tell the craftsmanship was beyond compare. I love landscaping and what I could see from the distance was that there were beautiful gardens adorning the architecture.
I sat day dreaming of what it might be like to live in such a wonderful place. I noticed an older gentleman coming down the street toward the coffee shop. He entered and sat one table over from me. The people working the coffee shop seemed excited to see him. They chatted and laughed and it seemed time had no place regarding his visit. This gentleman, who must have been a celebrity, had an easy demeanor and a quiet strength. He had a sparkle in his eye that must have come from living a life of stardom.
My curiosity got the best of me and I explained I was visiting the area and asked if I might share his table. He laughed a thunderous laugh and told me I was welcome to join him anytime. I grabbed my coffee, a steaming hot vanilla latte, an orange cranberry scone and walked to his table. As soon as I sat, I felt very welcome and it was almost as if I had met him or maybe seen him in a movie or play long ago.
After a few minutes of chit chat, I told him my impression of him asking if he had been a movie star or a famous public figure. Again I got to enjoy that thunderous laugh. He said he has traveled the world many times but never as a celebrity because a celebrity he was not. I asked why it was that I felt I knew him and he giggled and asked me how much time I had. I told him I could enjoy sitting here sipping coffee all day. So he began ...
He told me that when he was younger, he enjoyed making things. He loved to build sand castles at the beach, he loved planting flowers and gardens. He especially loved when the gardens he planted became ripe and he could eat fresh tomatoes off the vine and enjoy beans and carrots and apples. He talked of how he was so amazed by all the colors of the gardens and vegetables and fruits. He said he would never get tired of the smell and flavor of all these natural things. One of his favorite memories was when he found a large broken pot and chipped away at it's edges until he formed a bowl. He then rummaged around and found a fitting stand to set it on and made his first bird bath. He talked of how he could sit for hours in the beautiful fragrance of the garden and watch the birds bathe and sing. He said sometimes he would lose track of time and be alarmed that the sun had started to set.
He worked with the plants, vegetables and fruits with endless excitement. He cross bred them and developed new, more colorful and more fragrant plants.
Passersby would stop and wonder at what he had done. Soon tales of his beautiful gardens spread and he became very well known. His testing and breeding had created acres of beautiful gardens more wonderful than ever seen anywhere before. He pointed to the mansion and explained that where the mansion stood, there used to be his little cabin. It was originally a potter's cabin years before, where some wonderful things had been created. He now used the potter's benches for his plant work and even some of the potters clay working tools to plant and trim his beautiful creations.
I glanced at my watch and was shocked that an hour had passed. Listening to his stories made that hour feel like only a matter of minutes.
Below where the mansion stood, you could see the acres of his gardens that had developed over many years of hard work. It was as if there was a beautiful flood on top of the hill that poured over the hilltop and down into the valley. It was like a flood of color and fragrance that competed with the clear blue skies for attention. It was impossible to put into words what I saw.
He told me that his reputation grew and visitors came from all over to see what had happened almost by accident. Flower growers from all over the world began placing orders with him for some of his rare and unusual plants. Word spread and his business of plants grew worldwide. He took some of the earnings and built that mansion on the hill. From the angle we were sitting you could almost imagine the flowers were pouring out and down the hill right from inside the mansion.
He stopped, and with the brush of a tear, he told me of how people began to move into the valley and make their homes there. He was proud that his imagination had brought so many people into the valley. He said it grew pretty much into what I was seeing now.
He talked about a difficult time in the town's history when greedy people moved in. They wanted to turn the town into a tourist trap and an area of big business and commerce. He had spent his life building a place of peace and beauty and the town backed his vision. The stance of the town created anger and violence and even saw families fighting familes. There were great arguments and even the burning of some buildings. The town had begun to lose it's peace and it was as if they were all dragged into a war of sorts.
My coffee companion talked of how desperate he was to save his valley and the people who he had grown to love. He sent his company's public relations manager to tell them they were destroying what made the town beautiful. He told them that they were splitting up families and crime rates were soaring. His wonderful speech fell on deaf ears as they could only see the great amount of money to be made. His pleading for things to go back to the way they were was met with a beating and him being thrown from a car onto the driveway of the mansion. He told me that he took out ads in the newspapers, sent other people from his business to try and persuade them to stop ruining the valley. Some barely escaped with their lives. The town's people even wrote songs hoping to tell their story and change the hearts of the invaders.
He loved the valley. He loved the people of the valley even more. It had been his best work and he had given it most of the years of his life. He watched his business decline and saw many people stop believing in the valley to chase after the riches that big business was offering.
Finally he sent his best public relations person. He sent the one who knew his business better than anyone. He sent his son, his only son. Tears began to flow freely from his eyes. The sun had passed over and the umbrella we had enjoyed our coffee under and it no longer offered shade. His tears were like jewels in the bright sun. His face seemed to glow and his despair was all consuming.
He told me his son was doing a great job. He was helping people to re-join the effort to save the valley. The battles got worse and people got meaner. The lines became more clearly drawn. It was money, power and big business against the keepers of the valley and the peaceful way of life. He talked of how he hoped with all he had that the people would turn back from the lies and greed that had infiltrated the valley. He hoped they would hear the truth of what his son was telling them. Some did, some came to their side to fight the fight.
But the lies and greed overpowered them and they killed his son. They beat him and hung him. He pointed to the center of the great garden and there stood a dead tree. It had only a trunk and two large branches. Even though it was dead, it lived on as a reminder of the battle in the valley and of the murder of his son. He loved his son so much that his death broke his heart beyond what could be imagined. There was a minute he had wondered if he had made the right choice. He then told me to look at the peace and beauty of the valley. To look at the happy, loving people who had taken his side. He told me to admire the victory that came from the death of his son. He asked me, "Would you not agree that it was worth it"? I could not speak for my voice was being choked behind my feeling of his pain and yet joy. I slowly nodded yes.
He told me now I knew the story of the valley and I should feel free to share it with everyone I met. After all it was a good story. He stood and told me he had to leave. It was time to share dinner with his son. I said, "Oh you had another son"? He said no. He told me that a funny thing happened. He said they buried his son the very day he was hanged. He told me with tears of joy streaming down his face that three days later, his son knocked at the door of the mansion and asked to come in. It was a miracle, his son lived. They rejoiced and laughed and danced for days. They had truly won. The valley had cleared and all the business and greed was chased out of the valley which is why it can be seen on the horizon to this day.
He told me that his son was now in charge of protecting the valley and the people of the valley. He even sometimes goes into the city to tell others of a better way of life. Others know of their story, the great battle and their victory. Today many people share the story, hoping people everywhere will give up the life of destruction for life of peace and joy.
He thanked me for listening and turned to walk away. He stopped, turned back to me and said he forgot to tell me one last thing. He said that he made a promise to all the people who moved to the valley or those who stayed in the city and believed in his way of how life is to be lived. His promise was that one day when life was at an end for them, he would bring them to live with him and his son in his great mansion. There they would enjoy peace and joy and the best view of the valley and the gardens they could ever imagine.
No matter how the story is told, it is truth. It is the truth of a loving God who spared no expense, felt no effort was too big and believes that all people are worth rescuing. God loves you and me more than we can comprehend.
Love and blessings to you all. Happy Easter! Rich.