Silent Whispers
(a selection from book 3 of The Truth Tree series)
She walks through the village on a spring morning, absorbing the scents and sounds of life. She smiles as she hears the greetings of the young and old as they too begin this new day . She greets each in return as she continues on her journey. Her destination is the treasured Truth Tree. She wishes to embrace the music of wind rustling its leaves and the peace that waits beneath it arms. They have called her the Word Painter and hopes this rooted friend inspires her to find some words to paint.
She hears the laughter of children and running footsteps. She finds herself surrounded by a number of young ones. She smiles at them and says, "Good morning, my young friends. How are you this fine morning? Would you like to join me beneath the Truth Tree for awhile?"
"Oh yes, we would!" they answer in unison.
After they have all found a seat, the young woman says, "I was hoping to have words to share with you today but they have not revealed themselves to me as yet."
A young girl seated near her asks, "Could we ask a question instead?"
"You certainly can! What might the question be?" the young woman replies with a smile.
The young girl sighs before speaking. "We were wondering about memories. Why are they so important? Our parents and elders speak of them often and they seem to be very dear to them."
"Oh, little one, they are very important to us. You will understand this much more as you grow older and have collected a few memories of your own to keep close," she responds with a smile.
"But what are they, these memories?" the young girl asks.
The young woman replies simply, "They are special moments you wish not to forget. I like to think of memories as those silent whispers we tuck away behind the door of yesterday. We have only to open that door to release them."
The young woman senses their confusion and waits for the question she knows will come.
"How is it that a whisper is silent?" asks an older child and she hears the murmurs of agreement from many small voices.
She replies, "Oh, children, memories' whispers need not be heard. The sweetest and most special whispers are felt here," as she places her hand upon her heart. She continues, "A whisper can be but the touch of wind, the scent of a flower, the taste of rain... all bits and pieces of a memory. They can be found in the deepest of silences or in a cacophony of voices because they live in our hearts and become of piece of our souls. I also believe that those silent whispers guide us today and lead us into our tomorrows. We must allow ourselves to feel them, to breathe them in deeply, and be thankful to have them. Remember too that not all memories will be sweet but each has a reason for being and their silent whispers will tell you that reason."
"Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us. I believe I understand what you are saying. Listen to the whispers of your heart. It feels us and tells us what we need," says one of the older boys and the young woman feels his smile.
She touches her heart once more and feels the heartbeat of a memory to keep and says, "It is I who must thank you for inspiring my words."
The children begin to rise, each offering her words of gratitude and farewell. She is so moved that tears begin to fill her eyes and her heart swells with silent whispers that will guide her through this day and all the days to come.
