August 4, 2025 • 52 mins
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
One. Once upon a time there was a beautiful palace
where the King's children lived as happily as they alone
can live. They never wanted anything, and they never knew
that there could be others who were not as happy
as they. Sometimes, it is true, they would hear a
story which would make them almost think that perhaps there
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was a world beyond which they did not know, outside
the palace of the King and its gardens. But something
would seem to say that after all, it was only
a fairy story, and they would forget that it meant
anything that might really be true. One of the little
princesses seemed to think more of these stories of a
world beyond the palace garden than the others, and she
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would sometimes find herself gazing at the sun and wondering
if the great world lay beyond the purple forests, where
the golden edged clouds shone like dark mountains in the distance.
And the name of this princess was Aileen. More and
more as she thought of these things, she felt sure
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that there must be a world where things were very
different from the happy life in the palace garden. And
in the stories which the children heard. She thought of
many things which with the others she used to pass
by without notice. Once they used to hear of no sorrow,
no pain, but only joy and peace. Now, in thinking,
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she sometimes noticed that there were things which were not spoken,
that there were things passed by in silence, That there
were things which travelers passing through the palace kept back,
as though they knew of much which the children must
not know, and yet which they would have told had
they dared. Questions Aileen asked, and the answers seldom satisfied her,
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for they never seemed to tell her everything. Every time
one of the travelers left the palace to return on
his journey, there seemed to be a look of appeal
in his life eyes, an appeal which only Aileen seemed
to see, and which made her wish to follow them,
for the very love that shone in the kind faces
of these strangers, strangers who told the children's stories of
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things they loved, of wonderful fairy worlds where they were
not as in the Palace of worlds, where Aileen seemed
to have traveled many times, long long ago. One day
she asked her father, the King, shall I never go
out of the palace, never leave the garden of delight
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and see the world that lies beyond the cloud mountains,
beyond the sunset and the whispering forests. And the King
looked intently at Aileen. These are strange fancies, he said,
Are you not happy here in the garden. Yes, I
am happy, she said, happier than I can tell. But
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you have not answered me. Is there not a world beyond?
Shall I ever see it? Some traveler must have been
telling you forbidden tales, said the King. These things I
have said may not be spoken in my garden. No
traveler has told me, said Aileen. I have seen them,
looking as though they would tell me, but could not
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of things beyond the garden, beyond the palace. I have
asked them, and they told me nothing. Yet I have
felt that I longed to go with them. I have
felt that I remember strange places, strange sights, things I
know not here. When they speak, sometimes even it seems
that I hear a voice like my own repeating a promise,
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a promise unfulfilled that must be kept. I will return,
I will, I will, it says. And I hear voices
calling in the wind, in the rustling of the leaves,
and in the silence of the day, come back, come back,
And the birds say, come, the pines whisper to me
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strange things, and a laughing water in the brooks says, come.
What does it mean? I cannot tell you here, said
the king. But why do you wish to leave the palace?
You are yet young, and there are many, many years
of happiness before you. You may stay in the palace,
where all things are good, and put these things out
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of your mind. There is another world, but not for
you yet. Aileen was troubled, or would have been had
such a thing been possible in the palace of the King.
May I ever see that land? May I ever leave
the palace? The children of the king are free to
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come and go, he said. I may not keep them
if they will not stay, for I know that they
will come again. Two a again, a traveler came to
the palace. He brought with him a harp of seven strings,
on which he played to the children. He sang to
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them for a while, and then for a space was silent.
Aileen listened to the strange, beautiful music, and to her
it seemed that there was speech in the harp, that
it spoke. The other children seemed to listen to the music,
but to them it did not seem to speak. To Aileen,
there were echoes of wonderful things the palace knew, not
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things that the language of the king could not tell.
The harp spoken away that the Princess Aileen knew and understood.
Although there were no words in its tones. There were
sad and sorrowful notes that told of sorrows the palace
never knew. There were strains of music that sounded harsh
to the listening ear, though to the careless they told
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of happiness alone. And as she listened, Eileen dreamed clearer
and more clear. She felt that the harp told of
a world of men where sorrow and sadness and strife
were not unknown, where joy should be and was not,
Where the people groped their way through darkness and thought
it light. Return, return, called the harp, and a mighty
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resolve came to Aileen. I will return, I will, I will,
she remembered the kings saying, the children of the King
are free to come and go. He had said, I
may not keep them if they will not stay. He
had told her she loved him much. But the call
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came clear, and she dared not seek him to say farewell,
lest she should be persuaded to remain. She bowed her head,
and the harper spoke, I will go, she said, I
will return with you. Then the harp sent forth such
a melody of joyous music that it echoed, thrilling through
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the hot, discordant notes of the world beyond the sunset,
and for a moment a chord of harmony ran through
the life of men. Joy unto you, men of the underworld.
Joy unto you, children of sorrow, Joy unto you, sons
of forgetfulness, Joy unto all beings. They passed out of
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the garden together, the musician and the soul. Three westward.
They traveled westward, ever westward. The way was dark and
sometimes dreary, and Aileen felt like one awakened from a
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beautiful dream. Before it was ended through the pine forests,
over mountains, in deep valleys, and by mighty streams. They traveled,
for they had the harp to cheer the way to
urge their footsteps onward, for the path was untrodden. Where
they went. There is a path, the harper said, a
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pleasant path and broad. But the journey is long, and
we must hasten on our way to the setting sun
to the gleaming sea. We must go, nor may we
seek a beaten track, lest we be too late. A
river there was, in whose waters were reflected pictures of
all that surrounded them, Such crystal clear reflections that sometimes
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it seemed as if they looked at real things in
the water, mirrored in the things around them. And on
the waters grew beautiful lotus flowers, lilies with cup shaped leaves.
In the blue and white petals of the lotus, also
there seemed to be reflections, so clear were they. The
musician plucked one of the cup like lily pads and
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filled it with the water. For Eileen. The still surface
of the water shone like silver in its green cup
as Aleen held it. Then the musician played. Soft and
low and sweet were the notes of that wonderful harp.
Scarcely they rippled the surface of the water, and yet
they vibrated, trembled, spread, until picture after picture came to
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the surface of the water in colors of every hue.
Scarcely may it be told what Aileen saw in the
magic cup in the water of remembrance. She seemed to
see herself, and yet another in picture after picture. Now
she saw herself as part of a golden sea of salves,
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which made but oneself. So lifelike were they so glorious
was their unity? Then in life after life, Aileen seemed
to see her other selves living and loving and working,
sleeping and suffering and struggling. She saw that on a
day she had made her great resolve to help the world.
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I will return, I will, I will, And now she
knew what things they were she had seemed to remember
in the King's Garden of Delight, joyously, eagerly, willingly. She
saw that she had determined to return to earth, in
body after body, to help the men of sorrow who
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struggled and slumbered and suffered. She saw that she had
before so done that her work remained unfinished, to be
begun again where she had laid it down. There was
suffering shown to her in the cup. There was sorrow
and grief and pain. But she saw that it must
all be, and was content. For at other times she
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had desired just such things, that she might know how
others felt them, that she might help them the more
with understanding happiness she had taken to give to others,
and she must repay the debt. She saw that all
things were just, And when the musician said, in a
low voice, will you yet proceed? I will? She said,
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Then drink the cup, he said, drink. She drained the
green cup of the lotus leaf, until scarcely a drop remained.
And with that draft she forgot all things that had
been The garden, the king, the journey, and the vision,
and the master Harper, all were forgotten. Only the remained
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dim remembrance, as of a dream at dawn forgotten. Four.
A little ship stood by the shore of the great sea.
Into this Aileen entered. There were other ships, some better,
some worse, But somehow she knew that just this and
not another, was the ship she wanted, and none questioned
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her when she entered. So they sailed away towards the
setting sun. Long was the voyage and lonely, for the
seas ran high, and all was dark below in the
heart of the ship. Nine months they tailed on the ocean,
until in the time appointed land appeared. Strange dwellings were there,
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domes and spires and crowded cities. With wide, wondering eyes.
Aileen watched them as the ship passed them by in
strange procession. For the men of that land were like
none she knew. None of these things could she remember,
for she had forgotten even her name. At the River
of Forgetfulness, where remembrances are left in the mirror of
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the waters until time and their creator bring them back
to life, it seemed as though one of wise and
kindly countenance held her as a little child in his
arms and whispered softly, remember, I will return, I will,
I will. A light of happy recollection came to her,
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and she smiled in reply. He had spoken in her
own language, as the harp had spoken, and strangely, and
strangely strangely, she seemed to see in him the harper
whose music had told her of the sorrowful land beyond
the sunset. For this moment she remembered, and then the
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thought departed. At first, the air seemed heavy and oppressive
to the wanderer, but by degrees she grew accustomed to it,
and even in time scarcely felt it. Yet, ever and again,
a dim remembrance of brighter, purer skies came to her.
She spoke of this more than once, but others only
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laughed and said the child is dreaming, Because she was
no longer dressed in shining garments. They did not know
her for the princess she really was. Indeed, she was
no way different from those around her, but that at
heart she was still the daughter of the king. They
could not see her heart. This they could not know.
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And seeing that they did not understand, she said no more.
Of the thoughts that came to her, they called it,
But Eileen thought, if this were so, a dream were
better than waking life. Unless could these be thoughts that
came to her of the world beyond the water, the
reflection of the real life? She knew not. We must
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teach this little dreamer what is life, they said. She
will not know what life is if we leave her
to her dreams. They made her work, and made her play,
work that never seemed to do anyone any good, and
play that seemed like work. She nearly forgot that in
what they called her dreams she had ever known of
another life. Sometimes she sang to herself strange songs that
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they said sounded sad and sorrowful, yet of a sweetness
all their own. Where does she hear them? People asked,
But Aileen never told, for the truth was that they
came to her in moments when her thoughts were far away, dreaming.
She seems like a bird in a cage that knows
of a brighter world outside, said one. But he was
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a poet, so they only smiled, as if they themselves
would have made the same remark if it had not
been so fanciful. And though men thought her sad and lonely,
there was joy to her in the hum of the bees,
and the songs of the birds, and the rustling of
the leaves. The butterflies, and the flowers and the brooks
were her friends. What a strange child, people said when
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they heard her talking to these friends. They did not
know of the stories her friends had told her, stories
which reminded her of a wonderful garden of delight, where
men did not ever stare and stare in gaping wonder.
Because a little child talked with the fairies that live
in all things beautiful, clothed in robes of sunlight and
rainbow hues. They would have taken her away from these friends,
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but for one old man, her grandfather, who said the
child would be better for the friend. Let her live
while she may. So it was that she played and
talked with the flowers, and sang to the brooks, and
listened to the stories of the forest trees that whispered
among themselves. None dared take her away. One day, she
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had been for a long ramble by a mighty river,
and the sun had sunk to the westward on its journey,
but she turned not to the place she called her home.
Tired and worn out with her play, she lay on
a rock and slept. In her sleep. It seemed that
a touch upon her forehead awakened in her a vision
of things she had once known, but had now almost forgotten.
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There was the King's garden, and the palace, and the
other wonderful buildings, tall and stately, mighty buildings which seemed
to speak of mighty builders, noble thoughts, and great men's deeds.
Some were even more stately, some more humble than the palace.
But in all there was a sense of grander, nobler
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life than the life those knew who were with her now,
and who laughing called her a dreamer. And she heard
a voice repeating, I will return, I will I will again.
She smiled as she recognized the voice. A feeling of
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intense happiness and content came to her, and she awoke
more than ever. It seemed as if that other were
the real life, and this a heavy dream. Five the
twilight glows still lingered in the west, and the evening
breeze called her to thoughts of home. But she had
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learned wisdom, and when they asked her where she had been,
Eileen said she had fallen asleep in the sunshine on
a rock by the Great River, which was true of
her dream. She said nothing to any except to the
old man, who alone seemed to understand her a little.
He did not laugh, but looked with thoughtful eyes, intent
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into the distance, away to the starlit sky, and it
seemed to her that he was trying to remember a
forgotten dream of life. And seeing this, she put her
hand in his trustingly, and they too knew well each
other's thoughts. Though never a word was spoken. He seemed
to the old man that the child was leading him
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along a familiar road to a home forgotten after many
weary days of wandering. There are some things the heart
can say that words can never tell, he said to
himself when she was gone, I think we understand one another.
As time passed by, Aileen came to know more and
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more of that other life, and she longed to tell
these things to the people who struggled and surged in
hot strife to win the things of the world they knew,
never thinking that there was a happier, purer, brighter world.
Some thought they knew of such a one, but all
except a few made it seem like the one in
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which they lived. Only they made it a little more
bright by day, a little more dark by night, and
with a little more success in the strife for the
things that change and pass away. These she would tell
of the nobler life she knew, but they listened not
at all. In due time, Eileen was sent to school
to learn, But her teachers found little that she did
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not quickly understand. For one thing, she remembered now plainly
how in the Garden of Delight, everything that was done
was well done. Were it the telling of a story,
or the singing of a song, or the watering of
the flowers that grew in that fair land, All was
done with the wonderful thoroughness, And Eileen now felt that
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she must do all things in that way, or leave
them quite alone. But often they would teach Eileen things
about which she seemed to care little and to understand,
as one in a dream. Then they would call her
attention to the work, only to find that she was
learning to understand a great deal more than they themselves
could tell. It was so with numbers. When they asked
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her what the numbers were by name, she not only
named them all, but told them why they were so
named and what each meant. And so with music, with
every chord she seemed to see harmonies of color, like
beautiful pictures too glorious to paint. And when she said
that life itself to her was music, Eileen's teachers did
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not understand. One said, she has learned these things before
in another life. Another declared, she sees the heart of things.
Where we see only the outer covering. She sees the
soul we the body. Perhaps they both were right, but
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many gave other reasons for them, and all of them
were gravely discussed. But curiously enough, the two who gave
the reasons I have told were laughed at and told
that such things could not be. So they said little
about their thoughts, because, like all those who are sure
that they know the truth, they could afford to wait
until their words were proved to be right. Six. At first,
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Aileen longed to tell the world of better things. She
would gladly have told the world of the glorious masonry,
of those noble cities which she saw in her visions.
Cities were men and women moved like gods, where sorrow
and want and selfishness seemed to be unknown. She longed
to tell them of the harmonies which came to her,
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of music which might stir a dead world to life,
thrilling all nature into blossoms and fruits in abundance, as
the music of a waterfall seems to send life into
the flowers which grow beside. She would have told them
of the colors with which nature loves to paint the sky,
the mountains and valleys, sea and land. When all is
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ready for the master's work. Four Nature paints wherever the
canvass is prepared to receive the picture, and she asks
no price for her work. Aileen knew of times in
the past, times it will come again, when man did
not ever strive to be rich, regardless of his poorer brothers,
but each worked as he was able, all working for
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the whole world's good. And she would have told them
how in those times man did not earn his living
by toil on ending by ceaseless pain and sorrow, But
that Nature helped him as he helped her, and the
earth brought out her stores of rich fruits for the
welfare of her upgrown sons, well knowing that they, in turn,
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with loving service, would seek to make nobler and better
that which Nature gave to them in charge, birds and beasts,
flowers and trees, plants and stones, and all that lives,
which is everything. Aileen saw, how the desire to possess
more than enough for the selfish pleasures of saying is mine,
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How the growth of selfishness in the world, the love
of killing Nature's younger sons for food and pleasure increased,
How the love of ease and forgetfulness of others, and
of duty to Mother Nature. How all these things had
chilled the warmth of the one great life that is
in all things, and crippled the mother's efforts to help
her wayward sons. Others had told these things, others had
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striven to show the glorious light of life that shines
behind the cold mist of sin and sorrow, which has
been cast like a veil over the earth. But all
had been rejected, Some were ill received, some were stoned,
some were killed. How can I raise this humanity, which,
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like a great orphan, has cut itself off from its mother,
and now lies ignorant of the happiness that awaits its coming. Thought, Aileen,
I have returned to tell them of the way, and
they will not hear. Others have returned as far as
they might, and have been rejected. Others still have boldly
plunged deeper yet in the hot sea of human life,
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and been lost in its poisonous fumes. Even so, I
will again return yet lower, if by chance there be
a few who will not reject my message. Seven. So
Aileen hid in her heart the things she knew, and
the things she would have told, as she had hidden
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in her soul at the river of forgetfulness, the memory
of the King's garden of delight. And she took her
way into the world with messages of love and of hope,
such simple messages as the children understood better sometimes than
their elders. She told the children many beautiful fairy stories,
and they listened eagerly. They did not know that these
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were the stories which she had told the learned ones
of earth, and which were really true, though they had
not believed. The children listened and they said, it is beautiful.
Some day we will seek out such a beautiful world
as that of which the stories tell. There were houses too,
which they built, little toy houses with toy bricks. But
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Eileen showed them how to shape the bricks, and how
to make each brick fit in its proper place, so
that never a one should lose its worth. And Eileen
showed the children how that behind the building of beautiful
mansions there was the beautiful thought that made the masonry
so noble a work, though it were only toy masonry.
And the children understood in their games they had done
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each his best, and they did well. But Eileen showed
them games in which they all acted together, even the
little ones, helping and sharing. It was wonderful to them
that they had not thought of this before, because now
they found that they could do more than ever they
had done when each worked alone and for himself. Near
the city where they dwelt was a vast plain full
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of great boulders, which they could have made into a
great park and a beautiful garden. But the people of
the city cared not for such things, and would not
help them by themselves. They knew not how to move
the rocks so remained a waste of wild growth, except
in those places where the children had moved one by
one and with great difficulty, the smaller stones. Now Aileen
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bid them take a strong rope, for said she, we
will clear that plain, and it shall be for a
dwelling and a garden for all she was thinking of
the King's garden. The children looked at her in astonishment,
as though they wondered if she meant the things she said.
We have no rope, they said, and none will give
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us any. There is your rope, said Aileen, pointing out
the overgrown plain, where amid the rocks, in the great
patches from which they had slowly and painfully drawn the
smaller stones, grew masses of pale blue flowers, beautiful, delicate
little blossoms, like wind flowers. Again, the children looked at
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her questioningly, not as the people at first had done,
but trustingly, though they knew not what she would have
them do, but sought to learn her wishes. So at
her bidding, they gathered all the ripened stalks of the
little flowers and laid them out in the sun as
she directed. Almost it seemed a pity to destroy the
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plants one little worker asked a leen of this matter,
for he loved the flowers, and a soy to see
them gathered and dried. Does it not hurt the flowers
to pluck them, he asked. Some say that you can
talk with them, as with all living things, and you
can tell if the flowers do not suffer in the gathering,
although they are old and ripe. His was a loving
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heart and a lean sow that he asked this out
of no mere curiosity. Gently, she touched his forehead with
her finger. Look, she said, Look and listen, for I
have opened the seeing eye to you eight And the
boy looked around in wonderment, amazed, and saw that the
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whole great plain was full of teeming life, which he
had not before seen. Fairies and elves peeped from every flower,
Gnomes and earthmen worked and played and danced among the bowlders.
And where before was silence but for the rustling of
the leaves in the breeze, there rose a murmur of
many voices, like the humming of bees in the sunshine.
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The boy listened, and at once he knew what the
flowers were whispering. There is a saying that the flax
people are being used for a mighty work, said one
little blue fairy to another. I heard a bee spreading
the news, said another. All the flax people are asked
to give their dresses to help in clearing the plain
for a palace and a garden where the kings may dwell,
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Not kings of earth and of little cities, but kings
of wisdom, whom Nature loves to obey, and we among
her children. Body after body have I grown, said the other.
I have struggled and striven to grow useful in this
glorious brotherhood of nature, and my only success seems to
be that I have a pretty head. It is good
to be beautiful, perhaps, but I have always thought that
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I would sacrifice my beauty for a chance of sharing
in noble deeds. A butterfly that had stopped to listen
now spoke to her. You have waited, and now you
will have your reward, for surely your body will be
taken to help in the work that is going forward.
The flax people have indeed lived to good purpose. They
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certainly do not seem afraid to die, said the boy
to himself, And as if in answer to his whispered thought,
the little f slax fairy said, of course, we are
not afraid. I have been told that there are giants
of men who really think that when they leave their
worn out stalks bodies they call them behind, they live
no more, or at least are not sure what becomes
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of themselves. But it cannot be true. It must be
a fairy story, laughed the little elf. They must know,
as we know, that all things sleep awhile and then
take new bodies, like dresses woven while they worked in
their last awaking, which men call life. And then one
day we know that we shall have woven dresses so
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fine that we shall be free to leave them as
the butterfly leaves his dull hued robes and spreads his
bright wings for flight into the grand unknown, which we
all long to know. But how do you know that
these things are so? Asked the boy, How do I
know that I am alive? Answered the flax fairy in
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a murmur. Fainter grew the voices, and the vision faded
from the boy's sight. He knew not how long it
was he stayed there, but after a while he awoke
with a start to find that Aileen was no longer
with him, and that he had slept among the flacks
in the sunshine. Nine. It must have been a dream,
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he said, But he did not believe it was a dream,
for all his words, and really, the flowers seemed to
him to bear a new life after that wonderful vision
which came to him when Aileen gave him for an
hour the seeing eye. Working with the others joyfully and happily,
without a moment's pause or one thought of failure, they
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saw quickly growing an immense heap of beautiful, fine white thread.
The children had helped the flax to grow, and now
in turn it aided them to clear more ground. For
in no long time all was finished, and before them
they had a mileighty rope, growing greater every day under
their leader's eye. One strange thing there was about the rope,
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for there were golden threads interwoven, which the children did
not remember having seen among the flacks, And they wondered,
but Aileen only said, it is golden flax. Whatever it was,
it shone brightly in the sun until it looked like
a ray of real sunlight in the rope. One little
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child said, it looks like a brother to the sun.
Perhaps it is, said Aileen, and smiled. The work grew apace,
and the play grew apace. Because the children scarcely knew
which was work and which was play, they seemed to
have found something better than both. Stone after stone, rock
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after rock was encircled with the cord, and triumphantly drawn
by that merry army of children to the edge of
the plain. Clearer and clearer grew the space where before
the stones had been, little pools of water formed, while
round them grew masses of beautiful flowers, among which was
a new crop of the little blue flax, stronger and
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better grown than any that had been there before. Gradually
there grew up a great wall of rock around the plain,
where the boulders were drawn by the children, for each
was taken to its nearest boundary. As Aileen told them,
this would be the simplest way to clear the plain.
Some mighty rocks yet remained in the center of the plain.
But the children had so seen the wisdom of their
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leader that they doubted not that these, too would be
removed without difficulty. Although how this was to be done
they could not tell, And as the work was nearing
an end, they did as their leader bid them in
perfect trust. Actually, they put their ropes around a rock,
which some said was like a small mountain. They pulled
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with a will, but the rock moved not still. They
pulled willingly and with all their might, for now they
had grown strong, until they scarcely knew their own powers.
From the great city, from the mountains, and from the
country round about came sightseers and inquirers. At first they
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only laughed and talked, and helped not at all. But
among them came men of strange countenance, strong men wise
in looks, men of kingly bearing. These said, it is
not right that these children should work forever alone. And they, too,
with strong grip of a strange sort, laid hold of
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the golden ropes, seeing which the ilers too came and helped,
until with a mighty song of joy, the children saw
the great rock move slowly at first, then faster faster,
until with a run, they had placed it in a
far corner of the great plain, standing like a sentinel
to the north. Ten another, and yet others followed east
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and south and west. The unhewn boulders stood like guardians
of the plain. A circle of twelve yet remained in
the center, like giant pillars. Supporting the sky. But these,
Aileen said, should stand, as also some smaller ones, which
were placed across their tops, like great beams resting upon
a doorway. How this was done I cannot say, but
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there is a saying in the city that in the
night before they were found placed high above the giant circle,
the sound of a great and joyous song, a hymn
of power, was heard, like the tones of a great bell,
shaking the houses with its vibrations and putting men in
fear of the destruction of their city. But at sunset,
the children had not returned from the plain, so that
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they were not in a city when this happened. And
not until the sun rise did the people flock to
the doors and window for a glimpse of the joyous
army that marched in their streets. Led by the men
of kingly bearing. The children marched singing a song of triumph,
with such shining glory in their faces, that all the
people marveled. Tired they were and slept. But when in
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the late noontide the people asked them what had happened,
all seemed like the forgotten glory of a dream. They
could remember little except that they were filled with the
joy of wonderful things which no tongue could tell. The
work had not taken one day or two, but many days, months,
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and even years had passed since the children played together
in the sunshine. Strong and sturdy lads and lasses were they. Now.
A beautiful temple had arisen within the giant circle, and
all around it was a garden of beauty, like no
garden which they had seen. But when Eileen looked amid
the rare flowers and found a little purple star with
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heart of gold, she knew that it was a flower
from the King's garden, and she was glad that it
could grow where all was rock. Before there were great
purple pansies too, like thoughts from the palace in which
Aileen had lived. Now it was that the children came
to the temple to learn of Aileen, and she taught
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them the wonderful truths which she knew to them. She
told the wonderful things that have been, and the more
wonderful things that may be, if men will only try
to bring them about. She taught them things so simple
that they often wondered why they had not already known them.
Without the telling, they did not know that there was
a good reason why it should be so. Aileen taught
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them too, how, by all working together for the welfare
and progress of all, there is no task we may
not overcome. We know it, said the children, remembering the
waste of rocks in the plains where now the gardens stood,
and the temple. Each by himself can do much, but
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all working together can move the world. She said, Now,
I will tell you a strange thing which is yet true.
For we are not at all separate from any other
thing in the world. But the same nature is in
us as in them, in the rocks and the flowers,
in the forests and streams, in city and mountain, in
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air and fire and water, just as the rocks and
this temple are of the same stone, although they differ
in shape. And if we only will, we can make
all our rocks into beautiful, glorious temples. When the world
of men has learned this lesson, the earth itself will
become a mighty temple that the wise teachers of old,
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whom men call gods, may come to us again and
live with us in peace forevermore. And it shall be
known that music is life, For in music is harmony,
and by heart harmony. All things live, each note in
its own place, doing its perfect work, be it great
or small. For this too is a brotherhood of harmony.
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Because in those days the people listened to the teachings
from the Temple and to the great ones who came
to dwell therein when it was finished, and who taught
the seekers after truth through their messenger Aileen, there were
happiness and joy and peace in all the land. Men
became nobler as they thought of nobler things than had
hitherto been their custom, seeing the beauty of the Temple
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and the mighty work that comes of aiding nature working
in unity and harmony. They also built their houses to
be like the temple stone they used for brick beautiful.
They built them within and without, and they labored to
make their dwellings fit temples for the gods. For it
was set among them that sometimes strangers would visit their city, and,
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seeking entrance, would dwell with them awhile where they found
a welcome. And it was noticed that always they came
to such dwellings as those where the beauty and harmony
of the building show a beauty and harmony within, and
when they left the house there always seemed to remain
a memory of their presence, as a ray of light
at sunset leaves a memory of joyous days and a
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sense of hope for brighter days yet to come. When
this thing happened, the neighbors would gather together, and it
was said, the Master has built the house. Then the
great beam, which rested on the pillars of the doors,
was lifted, and where it had stood was built an
arch of stone, And last of all was dropped in
place the keystone which held the arch. And there was
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great rejoicing, for the people said the house is finished.
Some there were who would have lifted the beam and
built the arch, But unless the Master had been in
the house, always some accident would occur and the house
be destroyed. In the center of the arch was placed
a great light, which was ever kept burning, for it
was fed with oil of gold, which never burns away,
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but whose smoke ever turns to oil again. Each light
was like the greater light which ever shone from the
dome of the Temple, a light to lighten all around.
Such light, as it was said, went out to the
world from the Temple itself, in the knowledge of the
laws of life and of all things good and great
and beautiful. Never was the light to be put out,
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lest harm should come day and night. It was held
a sacred duty to guard the light. When that light shone,
there was peace and plenty in the land, for fellowship
made life joyful. Some called that glorious time the Golden Age.
Some there are even now among us who will bring
that golden age again to earth, as then, through brotherhood
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and the joy of life, that misery shall not always
be among us, nor poverty, sorrow and pain. But there
came a day when messengers from far off lands came oversea,
a great journey to the temple and to Aileen. They
told the despair and want and the madness of unbrotherliness
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that men knew in the countries. Whence they came, countries
were the light shone. No longer of wars and of famines.
They spoke of poverty, oppression, and crime. Aileen's great compassion
could not be silent to appeal from these things. I say,
humanity shall be saved, said she. I have a duty here.
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But there are guardians in the temple, and the call
comes loud to me from the world beyond. I will go.
Those messengers heard with joy of the success of their journey,
For they had traveled far and had overcome many trials
and difficulties by the way, And all the time they
had hoped in perfect faith that they would return with
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some encouragement to the country. Whence they came, And doubtless
it was because of the grand faith they showed that
Aileen herself answered their call. Guard well the temple. While
I am away, Aileen charged her people, I must travel far,
but in no time I will return. I will return.
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Be watchful therefore that the light be burning, that the
oil fade not. None can tell the time of the coming,
whether it be by night or day. With your lives,
must you guard the light? She spoke somewhat sadly, as
it seemed to them, and they supposed she thought of
the great misery and need of those she went to
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succor in their distress. And they answered the more eagerly
we will. We will. For the first time since it
had been built, the temple was left without its head,
a sacred trust. Indeed, they thought they knew themselves. They
thought they knew the evil in their natures and the
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good did those temple watchers, And in their surety of knowing,
they grew careless, so that in no long time they
lost their caution. Some there were who were faithless, and
these began to tell them of their great success, how
they had built the temple, how their industry and labor
had succeeded, how well they had learned to know themselves.
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Gently they suggested these things gently. These sayings took root,
almost unperceived. Our temple, which we have built, is very mighty.
It can never fail, they said. Some few there were
who would have spoken for aileen, but they were timid
and afraid of those who talked so boastfully. Wherefore they
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were silent. It is true that one or two attempted
to recall the noble deeds of the absent one, and
to point out that she had really built the temple.
They had supplied only the labor. Yet the fruits of
it were theirs and the worlds, true, said the wicked
and faithless ones. She had a great mind for building,
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but she made mistakes, she herself said. So we have
learned by those mistakes, and we know she would have
made the temple's teachings too common altogether. Why she actually
began to turn into a teacher of virtues, of which
the world is weary instead of building. As at first,
she had taught all she knew. But we can teach
greater things and better things. We can teach the world
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twenty different styles of building in metals, wood, stone, and marble,
of ornaments and decorations enough to last for a century.
Thus we honor her. Thus we carry on her work
and make it grow. Although she made mistakes, Indeed she
did make mistakes, said one, And the greatest mistake of
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all was when she chose such faithless craftsmen for the
temple work. Shame on you, o faithful one, said they.
Such faith deserves a great wid to you. We will
entrust the duty of finding her. We will give you
all you need for the voyage, a ship and provisions
enough for a year twelve. So those treacherous ones cast
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adrift on the ocean, the one who remained faithful, and
those others who would have spoken out for their absent teacher,
were silenced against their own better natures. For those wicked
ones had been great among them, and they were afraid.
It was thought that in no long time the winds
and waves would destroy the little ship with its lonely voyager.
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Yet with stout heart. Knowing that he might not return alone,
he held on, fearless and determined. Sometimes it seems that
those who so follow the voice of their inner wisdom
in dauntless courage, are helped by Nature, as though she
ever loves such brave hearts. I have heard the story
told how the great Columbus, who found a new world,
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was beset by his followers to return. How nature sent
him messages that he was nearing land, birds and driftwood,
branches of trees and floating weed. He read the message
with the eyes of one who loves all nature well,
and promised sight of land to his men in three days,
a promise that was fulfilled. So it was that the
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little ship, with the one who remained faithful, did a
greater work than ever those desired who sent it slowly, slowly.
In the temple, it came about that the guardians forgot
their duty, forgot that they were there to guard the
temple in sacred trust for humanity. And as the wicked
ones among them wished, they busied themselves about many things,
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but not the one thing needful, the welfare and the
progress of mankind. How can the tale be told? A
tale that is new yet old bold, beyond count of years.
For the enemies of the world, with whom those wicked
ones were leagued, came suddenly by night, when the sacred lamp,
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which sent rays of hope over the great ocean, was
allowed to flicker and go out, and those enemies destroyed
the temple, so that scarcely one stone remained upon another,
and with it were destroyed those weak ones who failed
in their trust all perished, and with them perished for
a time the light of the world. Thirteen. It is said,
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how truly I know not, that beneath the foundation pillars
of the temple was wisely prepared by Aileen a vault,
a vast cave, wherein were hidden the most sacred records
of the temple, and the sacred secret name, which they
had forgotten. To her. Over the sea came the knowledge
of the faithless guard, and in her agony she called
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upon that sacred name, if by chance the temple should
be saved. In days of old, men knew that there
is a power in words, a power now forgotten. Stories
there are which tell of city walls falling at a trumpet, blast,
of cities rising as if by magic, at a word
of mighty doors thrown open of nature. Spellbound by a
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song of mighty names, the jinns and genie of the
desert obey, And this sacred name was such a one
as these, For with its whispering a mighty thrill passed
out over the world, and the foundations of the sea
were shaken, Vast continents were destroyed, and men said the
world was at an end. Terrible was the time, But
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Ailien knew that it was better so, for the remnant
of the living might one day restore the ancient glory
of that land. But had it been that the land remained,
those wicked ones would have lived and worked to destroy
them the whole world, so that not even a remnant
should be left in the bosom of the waters to
repeople the earth. After many days, tossed and beaten by
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the waves, the little ship with the outcast faithful one
came drifting to the land where Aileen was. The winds
and the sea conspired as it seemed to urge the
ship on her voyage, and the dwellers of the ocean
pointed the way, watchful, ever, and untiring in their duty.
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Small as it was, and ill found, Aileen chose this
ship for her return, and once again she came to
the place where the temple had stood, she and that
faithful one. She gazed at the ruins of that sacred spot,
and sadly looked at the tops of the mighty pillars,
just rising above the waves of the sea, which at
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times filled the arches in between, so that no man
might pass beneath unseen guard. There were, Aileen knew, guards
who would keep that spot free for future generations of
a world to come. Water nymphs, sea sprites and earth goblins, undines,
gnomes and sylphs dwelt there as sentinels of a sacred trust,
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and Aileen was content to go, for she said, the
secret vault of the sacred Name yet stands intact until
these same faithless ones shall come again, purified by many
wanderings and trials, and shall again guard that new old
temple with me. That time they shall not fail. And
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a ray of glorious hope shone in her face as
she left the ruined temple. I will return, she said,
I will return. End of the Strange Little Girl by V. M.
One. Once upon a time there was a beautiful palace
where the King's children lived as happily as they alone
can live. They never wanted anything, and they never knew
that there could be others who were not as happy
as they. Sometimes, it is true, they would hear a
story which would make them almost think that perhaps there
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was a world beyond which they did not know, outside
the palace of the King and its gardens. But something
would seem to say that after all, it was only
a fairy story, and they would forget that it meant
anything that might really be true. One of the little
princesses seemed to think more of these stories of a
world beyond the palace garden than the others, and she
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would sometimes find herself gazing at the sun and wondering
if the great world lay beyond the purple forests, where
the golden edged clouds shone like dark mountains in the distance.
And the name of this princess was Aileen. More and
more as she thought of these things, she felt sure
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that there must be a world where things were very
different from the happy life in the palace garden. And
in the stories which the children heard. She thought of
many things which with the others she used to pass
by without notice. Once they used to hear of no sorrow,
no pain, but only joy and peace. Now, in thinking,
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she sometimes noticed that there were things which were not spoken,
that there were things passed by in silence, That there
were things which travelers passing through the palace kept back,
as though they knew of much which the children must
not know, and yet which they would have told had
they dared. Questions Aileen asked, and the answers seldom satisfied her,
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for they never seemed to tell her everything. Every time
one of the travelers left the palace to return on
his journey, there seemed to be a look of appeal
in his life eyes, an appeal which only Aileen seemed
to see, and which made her wish to follow them,
for the very love that shone in the kind faces
of these strangers, strangers who told the children's stories of
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things they loved, of wonderful fairy worlds where they were
not as in the Palace of worlds, where Aileen seemed
to have traveled many times, long long ago. One day
she asked her father, the King, shall I never go
out of the palace, never leave the garden of delight
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and see the world that lies beyond the cloud mountains,
beyond the sunset and the whispering forests. And the King
looked intently at Aileen. These are strange fancies, he said,
Are you not happy here in the garden. Yes, I
am happy, she said, happier than I can tell. But
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you have not answered me. Is there not a world beyond?
Shall I ever see it? Some traveler must have been
telling you forbidden tales, said the King. These things I
have said may not be spoken in my garden. No
traveler has told me, said Aileen. I have seen them,
looking as though they would tell me, but could not
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of things beyond the garden, beyond the palace. I have
asked them, and they told me nothing. Yet I have
felt that I longed to go with them. I have
felt that I remember strange places, strange sights, things I
know not here. When they speak, sometimes even it seems
that I hear a voice like my own repeating a promise,
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a promise unfulfilled that must be kept. I will return,
I will, I will, it says. And I hear voices
calling in the wind, in the rustling of the leaves,
and in the silence of the day, come back, come back,
And the birds say, come, the pines whisper to me
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strange things, and a laughing water in the brooks says, come.
What does it mean? I cannot tell you here, said
the king. But why do you wish to leave the palace?
You are yet young, and there are many, many years
of happiness before you. You may stay in the palace,
where all things are good, and put these things out
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of your mind. There is another world, but not for
you yet. Aileen was troubled, or would have been had
such a thing been possible in the palace of the King.
May I ever see that land? May I ever leave
the palace? The children of the king are free to
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come and go, he said. I may not keep them
if they will not stay, for I know that they
will come again. Two a again, a traveler came to
the palace. He brought with him a harp of seven strings,
on which he played to the children. He sang to
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them for a while, and then for a space was silent.
Aileen listened to the strange, beautiful music, and to her
it seemed that there was speech in the harp, that
it spoke. The other children seemed to listen to the music,
but to them it did not seem to speak. To Aileen,
there were echoes of wonderful things the palace knew, not
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things that the language of the king could not tell.
The harp spoken away that the Princess Aileen knew and understood.
Although there were no words in its tones. There were
sad and sorrowful notes that told of sorrows the palace
never knew. There were strains of music that sounded harsh
to the listening ear, though to the careless they told
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of happiness alone. And as she listened, Eileen dreamed clearer
and more clear. She felt that the harp told of
a world of men where sorrow and sadness and strife
were not unknown, where joy should be and was not,
Where the people groped their way through darkness and thought
it light. Return, return, called the harp, and a mighty
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resolve came to Aileen. I will return, I will, I will,
she remembered the kings saying, the children of the King
are free to come and go. He had said, I
may not keep them if they will not stay. He
had told her she loved him much. But the call
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came clear, and she dared not seek him to say farewell,
lest she should be persuaded to remain. She bowed her head,
and the harper spoke, I will go, she said, I
will return with you. Then the harp sent forth such
a melody of joyous music that it echoed, thrilling through
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the hot, discordant notes of the world beyond the sunset,
and for a moment a chord of harmony ran through
the life of men. Joy unto you, men of the underworld.
Joy unto you, children of sorrow, Joy unto you, sons
of forgetfulness, Joy unto all beings. They passed out of
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the garden together, the musician and the soul. Three westward.
They traveled westward, ever westward. The way was dark and
sometimes dreary, and Aileen felt like one awakened from a
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beautiful dream. Before it was ended through the pine forests,
over mountains, in deep valleys, and by mighty streams. They traveled,
for they had the harp to cheer the way to
urge their footsteps onward, for the path was untrodden. Where
they went. There is a path, the harper said, a
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pleasant path and broad. But the journey is long, and
we must hasten on our way to the setting sun
to the gleaming sea. We must go, nor may we
seek a beaten track, lest we be too late. A
river there was, in whose waters were reflected pictures of
all that surrounded them, Such crystal clear reflections that sometimes
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it seemed as if they looked at real things in
the water, mirrored in the things around them. And on
the waters grew beautiful lotus flowers, lilies with cup shaped leaves.
In the blue and white petals of the lotus, also
there seemed to be reflections, so clear were they. The
musician plucked one of the cup like lily pads and
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filled it with the water. For Eileen. The still surface
of the water shone like silver in its green cup
as Aleen held it. Then the musician played. Soft and
low and sweet were the notes of that wonderful harp.
Scarcely they rippled the surface of the water, and yet
they vibrated, trembled, spread, until picture after picture came to
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the surface of the water in colors of every hue.
Scarcely may it be told what Aileen saw in the
magic cup in the water of remembrance. She seemed to
see herself, and yet another in picture after picture. Now
she saw herself as part of a golden sea of salves,
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which made but oneself. So lifelike were they so glorious
was their unity? Then in life after life, Aileen seemed
to see her other selves living and loving and working,
sleeping and suffering and struggling. She saw that on a
day she had made her great resolve to help the world.
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I will return, I will, I will, And now she
knew what things they were she had seemed to remember
in the King's Garden of Delight, joyously, eagerly, willingly. She
saw that she had determined to return to earth, in
body after body, to help the men of sorrow who
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struggled and slumbered and suffered. She saw that she had
before so done that her work remained unfinished, to be
begun again where she had laid it down. There was
suffering shown to her in the cup. There was sorrow
and grief and pain. But she saw that it must
all be, and was content. For at other times she
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had desired just such things, that she might know how
others felt them, that she might help them the more
with understanding happiness she had taken to give to others,
and she must repay the debt. She saw that all
things were just, And when the musician said, in a
low voice, will you yet proceed? I will? She said,
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Then drink the cup, he said, drink. She drained the
green cup of the lotus leaf, until scarcely a drop remained.
And with that draft she forgot all things that had
been The garden, the king, the journey, and the vision,
and the master Harper, all were forgotten. Only the remained
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dim remembrance, as of a dream at dawn forgotten. Four.
A little ship stood by the shore of the great sea.
Into this Aileen entered. There were other ships, some better,
some worse, But somehow she knew that just this and
not another, was the ship she wanted, and none questioned
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her when she entered. So they sailed away towards the
setting sun. Long was the voyage and lonely, for the
seas ran high, and all was dark below in the
heart of the ship. Nine months they tailed on the ocean,
until in the time appointed land appeared. Strange dwellings were there,
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domes and spires and crowded cities. With wide, wondering eyes.
Aileen watched them as the ship passed them by in
strange procession. For the men of that land were like
none she knew. None of these things could she remember,
for she had forgotten even her name. At the River
of Forgetfulness, where remembrances are left in the mirror of
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the waters until time and their creator bring them back
to life, it seemed as though one of wise and
kindly countenance held her as a little child in his
arms and whispered softly, remember, I will return, I will,
I will. A light of happy recollection came to her,
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and she smiled in reply. He had spoken in her
own language, as the harp had spoken, and strangely, and
strangely strangely, she seemed to see in him the harper
whose music had told her of the sorrowful land beyond
the sunset. For this moment she remembered, and then the
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thought departed. At first, the air seemed heavy and oppressive
to the wanderer, but by degrees she grew accustomed to it,
and even in time scarcely felt it. Yet, ever and again,
a dim remembrance of brighter, purer skies came to her.
She spoke of this more than once, but others only
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laughed and said the child is dreaming, Because she was
no longer dressed in shining garments. They did not know
her for the princess she really was. Indeed, she was
no way different from those around her, but that at
heart she was still the daughter of the king. They
could not see her heart. This they could not know.
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And seeing that they did not understand, she said no more.
Of the thoughts that came to her, they called it,
But Eileen thought, if this were so, a dream were
better than waking life. Unless could these be thoughts that
came to her of the world beyond the water, the
reflection of the real life? She knew not. We must
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teach this little dreamer what is life, they said. She
will not know what life is if we leave her
to her dreams. They made her work, and made her play,
work that never seemed to do anyone any good, and
play that seemed like work. She nearly forgot that in
what they called her dreams she had ever known of
another life. Sometimes she sang to herself strange songs that
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they said sounded sad and sorrowful, yet of a sweetness
all their own. Where does she hear them? People asked,
But Aileen never told, for the truth was that they
came to her in moments when her thoughts were far away, dreaming.
She seems like a bird in a cage that knows
of a brighter world outside, said one. But he was
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a poet, so they only smiled, as if they themselves
would have made the same remark if it had not
been so fanciful. And though men thought her sad and lonely,
there was joy to her in the hum of the bees,
and the songs of the birds, and the rustling of
the leaves. The butterflies, and the flowers and the brooks
were her friends. What a strange child, people said when
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they heard her talking to these friends. They did not
know of the stories her friends had told her, stories
which reminded her of a wonderful garden of delight, where
men did not ever stare and stare in gaping wonder.
Because a little child talked with the fairies that live
in all things beautiful, clothed in robes of sunlight and
rainbow hues. They would have taken her away from these friends,
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but for one old man, her grandfather, who said the
child would be better for the friend. Let her live
while she may. So it was that she played and
talked with the flowers, and sang to the brooks, and
listened to the stories of the forest trees that whispered
among themselves. None dared take her away. One day, she
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had been for a long ramble by a mighty river,
and the sun had sunk to the westward on its journey,
but she turned not to the place she called her home.
Tired and worn out with her play, she lay on
a rock and slept. In her sleep. It seemed that
a touch upon her forehead awakened in her a vision
of things she had once known, but had now almost forgotten.
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There was the King's garden, and the palace, and the
other wonderful buildings, tall and stately, mighty buildings which seemed
to speak of mighty builders, noble thoughts, and great men's deeds.
Some were even more stately, some more humble than the palace.
But in all there was a sense of grander, nobler
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life than the life those knew who were with her now,
and who laughing called her a dreamer. And she heard
a voice repeating, I will return, I will I will again.
She smiled as she recognized the voice. A feeling of
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intense happiness and content came to her, and she awoke
more than ever. It seemed as if that other were
the real life, and this a heavy dream. Five the
twilight glows still lingered in the west, and the evening
breeze called her to thoughts of home. But she had
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learned wisdom, and when they asked her where she had been,
Eileen said she had fallen asleep in the sunshine on
a rock by the Great River, which was true of
her dream. She said nothing to any except to the
old man, who alone seemed to understand her a little.
He did not laugh, but looked with thoughtful eyes, intent
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into the distance, away to the starlit sky, and it
seemed to her that he was trying to remember a
forgotten dream of life. And seeing this, she put her
hand in his trustingly, and they too knew well each
other's thoughts. Though never a word was spoken. He seemed
to the old man that the child was leading him
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along a familiar road to a home forgotten after many
weary days of wandering. There are some things the heart
can say that words can never tell, he said to
himself when she was gone, I think we understand one another.
As time passed by, Aileen came to know more and
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more of that other life, and she longed to tell
these things to the people who struggled and surged in
hot strife to win the things of the world they knew,
never thinking that there was a happier, purer, brighter world.
Some thought they knew of such a one, but all
except a few made it seem like the one in
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which they lived. Only they made it a little more
bright by day, a little more dark by night, and
with a little more success in the strife for the
things that change and pass away. These she would tell
of the nobler life she knew, but they listened not
at all. In due time, Eileen was sent to school
to learn, But her teachers found little that she did
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not quickly understand. For one thing, she remembered now plainly
how in the Garden of Delight, everything that was done
was well done. Were it the telling of a story,
or the singing of a song, or the watering of
the flowers that grew in that fair land, All was
done with the wonderful thoroughness, And Eileen now felt that
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she must do all things in that way, or leave
them quite alone. But often they would teach Eileen things
about which she seemed to care little and to understand,
as one in a dream. Then they would call her
attention to the work, only to find that she was
learning to understand a great deal more than they themselves
could tell. It was so with numbers. When they asked
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her what the numbers were by name, she not only
named them all, but told them why they were so
named and what each meant. And so with music, with
every chord she seemed to see harmonies of color, like
beautiful pictures too glorious to paint. And when she said
that life itself to her was music, Eileen's teachers did
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not understand. One said, she has learned these things before
in another life. Another declared, she sees the heart of things.
Where we see only the outer covering. She sees the
soul we the body. Perhaps they both were right, but
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many gave other reasons for them, and all of them
were gravely discussed. But curiously enough, the two who gave
the reasons I have told were laughed at and told
that such things could not be. So they said little
about their thoughts, because, like all those who are sure
that they know the truth, they could afford to wait
until their words were proved to be right. Six. At first,
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Aileen longed to tell the world of better things. She
would gladly have told the world of the glorious masonry,
of those noble cities which she saw in her visions.
Cities were men and women moved like gods, where sorrow
and want and selfishness seemed to be unknown. She longed
to tell them of the harmonies which came to her,
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of music which might stir a dead world to life,
thrilling all nature into blossoms and fruits in abundance, as
the music of a waterfall seems to send life into
the flowers which grow beside. She would have told them
of the colors with which nature loves to paint the sky,
the mountains and valleys, sea and land. When all is
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ready for the master's work. Four Nature paints wherever the
canvass is prepared to receive the picture, and she asks
no price for her work. Aileen knew of times in
the past, times it will come again, when man did
not ever strive to be rich, regardless of his poorer brothers,
but each worked as he was able, all working for
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the whole world's good. And she would have told them
how in those times man did not earn his living
by toil on ending by ceaseless pain and sorrow, But
that Nature helped him as he helped her, and the
earth brought out her stores of rich fruits for the
welfare of her upgrown sons, well knowing that they, in turn,
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with loving service, would seek to make nobler and better
that which Nature gave to them in charge, birds and beasts,
flowers and trees, plants and stones, and all that lives,
which is everything. Aileen saw, how the desire to possess
more than enough for the selfish pleasures of saying is mine,
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How the growth of selfishness in the world, the love
of killing Nature's younger sons for food and pleasure increased,
How the love of ease and forgetfulness of others, and
of duty to Mother Nature. How all these things had
chilled the warmth of the one great life that is
in all things, and crippled the mother's efforts to help
her wayward sons. Others had told these things, others had
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striven to show the glorious light of life that shines
behind the cold mist of sin and sorrow, which has
been cast like a veil over the earth. But all
had been rejected, Some were ill received, some were stoned,
some were killed. How can I raise this humanity, which,
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like a great orphan, has cut itself off from its mother,
and now lies ignorant of the happiness that awaits its coming. Thought, Aileen,
I have returned to tell them of the way, and
they will not hear. Others have returned as far as
they might, and have been rejected. Others still have boldly
plunged deeper yet in the hot sea of human life,
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and been lost in its poisonous fumes. Even so, I
will again return yet lower, if by chance there be
a few who will not reject my message. Seven. So
Aileen hid in her heart the things she knew, and
the things she would have told, as she had hidden
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in her soul at the river of forgetfulness, the memory
of the King's garden of delight. And she took her
way into the world with messages of love and of hope,
such simple messages as the children understood better sometimes than
their elders. She told the children many beautiful fairy stories,
and they listened eagerly. They did not know that these
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were the stories which she had told the learned ones
of earth, and which were really true, though they had
not believed. The children listened and they said, it is beautiful.
Some day we will seek out such a beautiful world
as that of which the stories tell. There were houses too,
which they built, little toy houses with toy bricks. But
(25:22):
Eileen showed them how to shape the bricks, and how
to make each brick fit in its proper place, so
that never a one should lose its worth. And Eileen
showed the children how that behind the building of beautiful
mansions there was the beautiful thought that made the masonry
so noble a work, though it were only toy masonry.
And the children understood in their games they had done
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each his best, and they did well. But Eileen showed
them games in which they all acted together, even the
little ones, helping and sharing. It was wonderful to them
that they had not thought of this before, because now
they found that they could do more than ever they
had done when each worked alone and for himself. Near
the city where they dwelt was a vast plain full
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of great boulders, which they could have made into a
great park and a beautiful garden. But the people of
the city cared not for such things, and would not
help them by themselves. They knew not how to move
the rocks so remained a waste of wild growth, except
in those places where the children had moved one by
one and with great difficulty, the smaller stones. Now Aileen
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bid them take a strong rope, for said she, we
will clear that plain, and it shall be for a
dwelling and a garden for all she was thinking of
the King's garden. The children looked at her in astonishment,
as though they wondered if she meant the things she said.
We have no rope, they said, and none will give
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us any. There is your rope, said Aileen, pointing out
the overgrown plain, where amid the rocks, in the great
patches from which they had slowly and painfully drawn the
smaller stones, grew masses of pale blue flowers, beautiful, delicate
little blossoms, like wind flowers. Again, the children looked at
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her questioningly, not as the people at first had done,
but trustingly, though they knew not what she would have
them do, but sought to learn her wishes. So at
her bidding, they gathered all the ripened stalks of the
little flowers and laid them out in the sun as
she directed. Almost it seemed a pity to destroy the
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plants one little worker asked a leen of this matter,
for he loved the flowers, and a soy to see
them gathered and dried. Does it not hurt the flowers
to pluck them, he asked. Some say that you can
talk with them, as with all living things, and you
can tell if the flowers do not suffer in the gathering,
although they are old and ripe. His was a loving
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heart and a lean sow that he asked this out
of no mere curiosity. Gently, she touched his forehead with
her finger. Look, she said, Look and listen, for I
have opened the seeing eye to you eight And the
boy looked around in wonderment, amazed, and saw that the
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whole great plain was full of teeming life, which he
had not before seen. Fairies and elves peeped from every flower,
Gnomes and earthmen worked and played and danced among the bowlders.
And where before was silence but for the rustling of
the leaves in the breeze, there rose a murmur of
many voices, like the humming of bees in the sunshine.
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The boy listened, and at once he knew what the
flowers were whispering. There is a saying that the flax
people are being used for a mighty work, said one
little blue fairy to another. I heard a bee spreading
the news, said another. All the flax people are asked
to give their dresses to help in clearing the plain
for a palace and a garden where the kings may dwell,
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Not kings of earth and of little cities, but kings
of wisdom, whom Nature loves to obey, and we among
her children. Body after body have I grown, said the other.
I have struggled and striven to grow useful in this
glorious brotherhood of nature, and my only success seems to
be that I have a pretty head. It is good
to be beautiful, perhaps, but I have always thought that
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I would sacrifice my beauty for a chance of sharing
in noble deeds. A butterfly that had stopped to listen
now spoke to her. You have waited, and now you
will have your reward, for surely your body will be
taken to help in the work that is going forward.
The flax people have indeed lived to good purpose. They
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certainly do not seem afraid to die, said the boy
to himself, And as if in answer to his whispered thought,
the little f slax fairy said, of course, we are
not afraid. I have been told that there are giants
of men who really think that when they leave their
worn out stalks bodies they call them behind, they live
no more, or at least are not sure what becomes
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of themselves. But it cannot be true. It must be
a fairy story, laughed the little elf. They must know,
as we know, that all things sleep awhile and then
take new bodies, like dresses woven while they worked in
their last awaking, which men call life. And then one
day we know that we shall have woven dresses so
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fine that we shall be free to leave them as
the butterfly leaves his dull hued robes and spreads his
bright wings for flight into the grand unknown, which we
all long to know. But how do you know that
these things are so? Asked the boy, How do I
know that I am alive? Answered the flax fairy in
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a murmur. Fainter grew the voices, and the vision faded
from the boy's sight. He knew not how long it
was he stayed there, but after a while he awoke
with a start to find that Aileen was no longer
with him, and that he had slept among the flacks
in the sunshine. Nine. It must have been a dream,
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he said, But he did not believe it was a dream,
for all his words, and really, the flowers seemed to
him to bear a new life after that wonderful vision
which came to him when Aileen gave him for an
hour the seeing eye. Working with the others joyfully and happily,
without a moment's pause or one thought of failure, they
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saw quickly growing an immense heap of beautiful, fine white thread.
The children had helped the flax to grow, and now
in turn it aided them to clear more ground. For
in no long time all was finished, and before them
they had a mileighty rope, growing greater every day under
their leader's eye. One strange thing there was about the rope,
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for there were golden threads interwoven, which the children did
not remember having seen among the flacks, And they wondered,
but Aileen only said, it is golden flax. Whatever it was,
it shone brightly in the sun until it looked like
a ray of real sunlight in the rope. One little
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child said, it looks like a brother to the sun.
Perhaps it is, said Aileen, and smiled. The work grew apace,
and the play grew apace. Because the children scarcely knew
which was work and which was play, they seemed to
have found something better than both. Stone after stone, rock
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after rock was encircled with the cord, and triumphantly drawn
by that merry army of children to the edge of
the plain. Clearer and clearer grew the space where before
the stones had been, little pools of water formed, while
round them grew masses of beautiful flowers, among which was
a new crop of the little blue flax, stronger and
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better grown than any that had been there before. Gradually
there grew up a great wall of rock around the plain,
where the boulders were drawn by the children, for each
was taken to its nearest boundary. As Aileen told them,
this would be the simplest way to clear the plain.
Some mighty rocks yet remained in the center of the plain.
But the children had so seen the wisdom of their
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leader that they doubted not that these, too would be
removed without difficulty. Although how this was to be done
they could not tell, And as the work was nearing
an end, they did as their leader bid them in
perfect trust. Actually, they put their ropes around a rock,
which some said was like a small mountain. They pulled
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with a will, but the rock moved not still. They
pulled willingly and with all their might, for now they
had grown strong, until they scarcely knew their own powers.
From the great city, from the mountains, and from the
country round about came sightseers and inquirers. At first they
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only laughed and talked, and helped not at all. But
among them came men of strange countenance, strong men wise
in looks, men of kingly bearing. These said, it is
not right that these children should work forever alone. And they, too,
with strong grip of a strange sort, laid hold of
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the golden ropes, seeing which the ilers too came and helped,
until with a mighty song of joy, the children saw
the great rock move slowly at first, then faster faster,
until with a run, they had placed it in a
far corner of the great plain, standing like a sentinel
to the north. Ten another, and yet others followed east
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and south and west. The unhewn boulders stood like guardians
of the plain. A circle of twelve yet remained in
the center, like giant pillars. Supporting the sky. But these,
Aileen said, should stand, as also some smaller ones, which
were placed across their tops, like great beams resting upon
a doorway. How this was done I cannot say, but
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there is a saying in the city that in the
night before they were found placed high above the giant circle,
the sound of a great and joyous song, a hymn
of power, was heard, like the tones of a great bell,
shaking the houses with its vibrations and putting men in
fear of the destruction of their city. But at sunset,
the children had not returned from the plain, so that
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they were not in a city when this happened. And
not until the sun rise did the people flock to
the doors and window for a glimpse of the joyous
army that marched in their streets. Led by the men
of kingly bearing. The children marched singing a song of triumph,
with such shining glory in their faces, that all the
people marveled. Tired they were and slept. But when in
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the late noontide the people asked them what had happened,
all seemed like the forgotten glory of a dream. They
could remember little except that they were filled with the
joy of wonderful things which no tongue could tell. The
work had not taken one day or two, but many days, months,
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and even years had passed since the children played together
in the sunshine. Strong and sturdy lads and lasses were they. Now.
A beautiful temple had arisen within the giant circle, and
all around it was a garden of beauty, like no
garden which they had seen. But when Eileen looked amid
the rare flowers and found a little purple star with
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heart of gold, she knew that it was a flower
from the King's garden, and she was glad that it
could grow where all was rock. Before there were great
purple pansies too, like thoughts from the palace in which
Aileen had lived. Now it was that the children came
to the temple to learn of Aileen, and she taught
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them the wonderful truths which she knew to them. She
told the wonderful things that have been, and the more
wonderful things that may be, if men will only try
to bring them about. She taught them things so simple
that they often wondered why they had not already known them.
Without the telling, they did not know that there was
a good reason why it should be so. Aileen taught
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them too, how, by all working together for the welfare
and progress of all, there is no task we may
not overcome. We know it, said the children, remembering the
waste of rocks in the plains where now the gardens stood,
and the temple. Each by himself can do much, but
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all working together can move the world. She said, Now,
I will tell you a strange thing which is yet true.
For we are not at all separate from any other
thing in the world. But the same nature is in
us as in them, in the rocks and the flowers,
in the forests and streams, in city and mountain, in
(38:28):
air and fire and water, just as the rocks and
this temple are of the same stone, although they differ
in shape. And if we only will, we can make
all our rocks into beautiful, glorious temples. When the world
of men has learned this lesson, the earth itself will
become a mighty temple that the wise teachers of old,
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whom men call gods, may come to us again and
live with us in peace forevermore. And it shall be
known that music is life, For in music is harmony,
and by heart harmony. All things live, each note in
its own place, doing its perfect work, be it great
or small. For this too is a brotherhood of harmony.
(39:12):
Because in those days the people listened to the teachings
from the Temple and to the great ones who came
to dwell therein when it was finished, and who taught
the seekers after truth through their messenger Aileen, there were
happiness and joy and peace in all the land. Men
became nobler as they thought of nobler things than had
hitherto been their custom, seeing the beauty of the Temple
(39:35):
and the mighty work that comes of aiding nature working
in unity and harmony. They also built their houses to
be like the temple stone they used for brick beautiful.
They built them within and without, and they labored to
make their dwellings fit temples for the gods. For it
was set among them that sometimes strangers would visit their city, and,
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seeking entrance, would dwell with them awhile where they found
a welcome. And it was noticed that always they came
to such dwellings as those where the beauty and harmony
of the building show a beauty and harmony within, and
when they left the house there always seemed to remain
a memory of their presence, as a ray of light
at sunset leaves a memory of joyous days and a
(40:18):
sense of hope for brighter days yet to come. When
this thing happened, the neighbors would gather together, and it
was said, the Master has built the house. Then the
great beam, which rested on the pillars of the doors,
was lifted, and where it had stood was built an
arch of stone, And last of all was dropped in
place the keystone which held the arch. And there was
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great rejoicing, for the people said the house is finished.
Some there were who would have lifted the beam and
built the arch, But unless the Master had been in
the house, always some accident would occur and the house
be destroyed. In the center of the arch was placed
a great light, which was ever kept burning, for it
was fed with oil of gold, which never burns away,
(41:04):
but whose smoke ever turns to oil again. Each light
was like the greater light which ever shone from the
dome of the Temple, a light to lighten all around.
Such light, as it was said, went out to the
world from the Temple itself, in the knowledge of the
laws of life and of all things good and great
and beautiful. Never was the light to be put out,
(41:27):
lest harm should come day and night. It was held
a sacred duty to guard the light. When that light shone,
there was peace and plenty in the land, for fellowship
made life joyful. Some called that glorious time the Golden Age.
Some there are even now among us who will bring
that golden age again to earth, as then, through brotherhood
(41:50):
and the joy of life, that misery shall not always
be among us, nor poverty, sorrow and pain. But there
came a day when messengers from far off lands came oversea,
a great journey to the temple and to Aileen. They
told the despair and want and the madness of unbrotherliness
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that men knew in the countries. Whence they came, countries
were the light shone. No longer of wars and of famines.
They spoke of poverty, oppression, and crime. Aileen's great compassion
could not be silent to appeal from these things. I say,
humanity shall be saved, said she. I have a duty here.
(42:37):
But there are guardians in the temple, and the call
comes loud to me from the world beyond. I will go.
Those messengers heard with joy of the success of their journey,
For they had traveled far and had overcome many trials
and difficulties by the way, And all the time they
had hoped in perfect faith that they would return with
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some encouragement to the country. Whence they came, And doubtless
it was because of the grand faith they showed that
Aileen herself answered their call. Guard well the temple. While
I am away, Aileen charged her people, I must travel far,
but in no time I will return. I will return.
(43:17):
Be watchful therefore that the light be burning, that the
oil fade not. None can tell the time of the coming,
whether it be by night or day. With your lives,
must you guard the light? She spoke somewhat sadly, as
it seemed to them, and they supposed she thought of
the great misery and need of those she went to
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succor in their distress. And they answered the more eagerly
we will. We will. For the first time since it
had been built, the temple was left without its head,
a sacred trust. Indeed, they thought they knew themselves. They
thought they knew the evil in their natures and the
(43:59):
good did those temple watchers, And in their surety of knowing,
they grew careless, so that in no long time they
lost their caution. Some there were who were faithless, and
these began to tell them of their great success, how
they had built the temple, how their industry and labor
had succeeded, how well they had learned to know themselves.
(44:22):
Gently they suggested these things gently. These sayings took root,
almost unperceived. Our temple, which we have built, is very mighty.
It can never fail, they said. Some few there were
who would have spoken for aileen, but they were timid
and afraid of those who talked so boastfully. Wherefore they
(44:44):
were silent. It is true that one or two attempted
to recall the noble deeds of the absent one, and
to point out that she had really built the temple.
They had supplied only the labor. Yet the fruits of
it were theirs and the worlds, true, said the wicked
and faithless ones. She had a great mind for building,
(45:06):
but she made mistakes, she herself said. So we have
learned by those mistakes, and we know she would have
made the temple's teachings too common altogether. Why she actually
began to turn into a teacher of virtues, of which
the world is weary instead of building. As at first,
she had taught all she knew. But we can teach
greater things and better things. We can teach the world
(45:29):
twenty different styles of building in metals, wood, stone, and marble,
of ornaments and decorations enough to last for a century.
Thus we honor her. Thus we carry on her work
and make it grow. Although she made mistakes, Indeed she
did make mistakes, said one, And the greatest mistake of
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all was when she chose such faithless craftsmen for the
temple work. Shame on you, o faithful one, said they.
Such faith deserves a great wid to you. We will
entrust the duty of finding her. We will give you
all you need for the voyage, a ship and provisions
enough for a year twelve. So those treacherous ones cast
(46:16):
adrift on the ocean, the one who remained faithful, and
those others who would have spoken out for their absent teacher,
were silenced against their own better natures. For those wicked
ones had been great among them, and they were afraid.
It was thought that in no long time the winds
and waves would destroy the little ship with its lonely voyager.
(46:37):
Yet with stout heart. Knowing that he might not return alone,
he held on, fearless and determined. Sometimes it seems that
those who so follow the voice of their inner wisdom
in dauntless courage, are helped by Nature, as though she
ever loves such brave hearts. I have heard the story
told how the great Columbus, who found a new world,
(47:00):
was beset by his followers to return. How nature sent
him messages that he was nearing land, birds and driftwood,
branches of trees and floating weed. He read the message
with the eyes of one who loves all nature well,
and promised sight of land to his men in three days,
a promise that was fulfilled. So it was that the
(47:24):
little ship, with the one who remained faithful, did a
greater work than ever those desired who sent it slowly, slowly.
In the temple, it came about that the guardians forgot
their duty, forgot that they were there to guard the
temple in sacred trust for humanity. And as the wicked
ones among them wished, they busied themselves about many things,
(47:48):
but not the one thing needful, the welfare and the
progress of mankind. How can the tale be told? A
tale that is new yet old bold, beyond count of years.
For the enemies of the world, with whom those wicked
ones were leagued, came suddenly by night, when the sacred lamp,
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which sent rays of hope over the great ocean, was
allowed to flicker and go out, and those enemies destroyed
the temple, so that scarcely one stone remained upon another,
and with it were destroyed those weak ones who failed
in their trust all perished, and with them perished for
a time the light of the world. Thirteen. It is said,
(48:37):
how truly I know not, that beneath the foundation pillars
of the temple was wisely prepared by Aileen a vault,
a vast cave, wherein were hidden the most sacred records
of the temple, and the sacred secret name, which they
had forgotten. To her. Over the sea came the knowledge
of the faithless guard, and in her agony she called
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upon that sacred name, if by chance the temple should
be saved. In days of old, men knew that there
is a power in words, a power now forgotten. Stories
there are which tell of city walls falling at a trumpet, blast,
of cities rising as if by magic, at a word
of mighty doors thrown open of nature. Spellbound by a
(49:23):
song of mighty names, the jinns and genie of the
desert obey, And this sacred name was such a one
as these, For with its whispering a mighty thrill passed
out over the world, and the foundations of the sea
were shaken, Vast continents were destroyed, and men said the
world was at an end. Terrible was the time, But
(49:47):
Ailien knew that it was better so, for the remnant
of the living might one day restore the ancient glory
of that land. But had it been that the land remained,
those wicked ones would have lived and worked to destroy
them the whole world, so that not even a remnant
should be left in the bosom of the waters to
repeople the earth. After many days, tossed and beaten by
(50:10):
the waves, the little ship with the outcast faithful one
came drifting to the land where Aileen was. The winds
and the sea conspired as it seemed to urge the
ship on her voyage, and the dwellers of the ocean
pointed the way, watchful, ever, and untiring in their duty.
(50:31):
Small as it was, and ill found, Aileen chose this
ship for her return, and once again she came to
the place where the temple had stood, she and that
faithful one. She gazed at the ruins of that sacred spot,
and sadly looked at the tops of the mighty pillars,
just rising above the waves of the sea, which at
(50:53):
times filled the arches in between, so that no man
might pass beneath unseen guard. There were, Aileen knew, guards
who would keep that spot free for future generations of
a world to come. Water nymphs, sea sprites and earth goblins, undines,
gnomes and sylphs dwelt there as sentinels of a sacred trust,
(51:17):
and Aileen was content to go, for she said, the
secret vault of the sacred Name yet stands intact until
these same faithless ones shall come again, purified by many
wanderings and trials, and shall again guard that new old
temple with me. That time they shall not fail. And
(51:40):
a ray of glorious hope shone in her face as
she left the ruined temple. I will return, she said,
I will return. End of the Strange Little Girl by V. M.
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