Hongumart on Nostr: There was once a gardener who lived in perfect harmony with two children he had made. ...

There was once a gardener who lived in perfect harmony with two children he had made. He placed them in a lush garden and gave them everything they needed. He walked with them in the cool of the day, and they knew no fear.

In the center of the garden stood one tree that bore a single kind of fruit. The gardener spoke to the children and said: “You may eat from any tree you wish, but not from this one. When you eat from it, you will change in a way that will change how I can hold you.”

The children listened, but they were tempted. They took the fruit and ate.

At once, something shifted. Not only in their hearts, but in the very fabric of the world. They were no longer in the same state they had been. They had become something new—something aware, something powerful, and something dangerous.

This was not only a matter of the gardener’s choice. From that moment, a higher law took effect. The rules that governed the relationship between the Maker and the children were no longer in his hands. The cosmic order required that, now that they had crossed this boundary, they must be treated according to a new classification, governed by new regulations.

The gardener’s heart was heavy. He loved them, but he could no longer keep them in the same open way. The garden was no longer safe for them as it had been, and they were no longer safe for the garden. The rules now demanded distance. The rules now demanded containment.

So he closed the gates of the garden. He placed guards at the way. He sent them out into the world beyond, where life would be harder, where they would face mortality, where they would know fear and pain. He did this not because he abandoned them, but because the law left him no other path.

He walked with them still, but now from a distance. He cared for them, but under new conditions. He longed for the day when, perhaps, they might be restored to the old closeness, when the rules would allow what love had always desired.

And so the story of the children became the story of all their descendants: a people who remember a time before the change, who live under the weight of it, and who hope for a day when the old trust might be restored and the garden might open again.