A Pumpkin and an Ancient Gift

Yesterday I attacked the pumpkin on the front step. It is now appreciated anew in cookie and muffin form. Next week, pie form, when the American Thanksgiving rolls around. Felt good to hack that thing into pieces, boil it, blend it, bake it.

A few days ago, I was raking leaves—a gazillion leaves. My arms didn’t like me come day’s end, but it was a good feeling, to toil in the crisp air and later truly understand what rest means. I recognize that not everyone is called or able to toil like that—strain their muscles, or push their hands into soil, split a log, prune a tree—but I think something in every person comes alive when mastering creation.

Back in Eden, the greenery and beasts within were given to Adam, first man, and I believe that ancient gift is still waiting to be opened by any who desire it. In days past, those men who spent their days tilling the fields, harvesting the crops, training their horses; and those women who drew carrots from the earth and milk from the cows—they sweat, bled, wept, and rejoiced with creation. And in doing so, I think they must have tasted Eden. I think this because I myself have tasted it, when I am weeding in the garden, when my horse yields to the touch of my leg, when I reach beneath a chicken and remove the warm, brown oval that is a fresh egg—or when I am transforming a pumpkin into goodies. And my soul says Yes when I see a boat coasting on the waves that press upon Nahant, sails swollen with wind, or when I see a child swinging from a branch. Dancing with the ocean, dancing with the tree. In those moments, we are transported back to the Beginning, when life was simple—when man was living and breathing God’s goodness through the tangible world.

Ha, I guess those pumpkin goodies feed more than the body; they also feed the soul.

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