Edema Rue

The girl stood at the base of another mountain.

Heartbroken.

Too tired to try again, and too afraid not to.

She took a long look behind her, at a land of warm sun and deep streams and laughter and light. Beauty trapped between a pair of hard rocks, huge rocks, mountains that would kill her if she wasn’t careful.

She sat on the stump of a long dead tree and let a tear fall.

Then another,

And,

Another.

She’d climbed mountains before. Gone into the dark and the cold, muscles burning, heart aching.

She’d always done it.

But just for a moment, she hadn’t had to.

Just for a moment, she’d found a place to rest.

And now it was starting all over again.

Time to be afraid again.

Time to be tired again.

Time to be confused again.

Time to be lost again.

Time to keep moving, again; if she tried to stay, she’d only be a witness to the destruction of her precarious home.

Keep moving.

Keep walking. 

Never rest.

The girl saw this new mountain, and she cried, not because she couldn’t climb it but because she could.

Because she knew she’d get past it.

But because she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

Because success meant more mountains, more difficulty, and more pain. 

And giving up meant rest.

She tried to remind herself that wasn’t true.

Tried to remind herself that without the last mountain, she’d never have made it to this valley. Tried to smile at the thought of another sanctuary.

But her smiles fell flat, and another tear fell.

Still, the girl stood up.

She shook her fist at the mountain, and mourned the loss of the warm sun, but she stood.

Every mountain has hidden treasures.

Ancient mines, filled with gold. 

Little flowers that press their way through the hard stones.

Frozen waterfalls in the shadow.

Deep green moss, soft under her tired feet.

So the girl stood up, and swore to find each precious secret.

She stood up, vowing that she would be home someday.

She stood up as a home she’d journeyed for eons just to find collapsed behind her, a paper clutched in her hand, its promise engraved into her heart.

Our home is your home. Every struggle brings you closer to us. We are waiting for you. We want you. Keep working, Weary Daughter, for there is a place for you.

So the girl moved forward, strength in her soul and hope in her heart.