Soil: Leave me alone!
Man: I paid for you. And I must put you to work for me.
Soil: You have used and confused me enough with chemicals!
Man: I will farm one more year and then you are free.
Soil: Ok. That sounds reasonable enough.
Observer: Man and Soil work with each other for another year. Both outdo their efforts and leave no stone unturned!
Man returns the loan and puts his profits to a business after selling the land. Soil is happy to have done her best in giving.
Soil: Finally, I can rest. I’m so glad Man is keeping his promise. But where has he disappeared?
Observer: There’s a new owner, Mantwo, a poor old gardener who had worked for many people in the city. He had to struggle to save for several decades to buy this piece of land. All his lifes’ savings were gone and not much was left to build. He wanted to grow vegetables and fruits and make a dream garden of his own for which all his previous employers had offered plants from their homes on his retirement.
Soil got the rest she needed because Man was gone and though she’d missed working with Man, she had not missed his greed. Mantwo had come after a few months. Soil was scared!
Mantwo: He looked, poked, and dug around. He drew lines in the earth and danced and sang to himself with joy.
Soil remained silent and scared, but was amused with Mantwo’s antics. He seemed friendly but was strangely silent between dancing and singing. His lines became sure and deep and some areas were dug up. He softened the earth with his bare hands.
Soil: Welcome, Sir! Please be kind. I need a little more rest before I give you my best.
Mantwo: Sure, no problem, let me add some natural manure and compost to nourish you during your restful phase.
I can build my cottage in the meantime. And he did.
Soil: Thank you, she said, and liking his voice and hardworking nature agreed to give him one try before she gave up on her renewing abilities, only to crack open all her stressed out fault lines.
Mantwo: He built his sweet little house nice and strong. He put in more work than he took out. He used friendly techniques and materials for nourishing the fields.
Soil: Now very curious, was ready and waiting with a good vibes about this new gardener.
Mantwo: Can I begin now? I must build to feed myself, and grow beautiful flowers to make you the most beautiful garden in town!
Soil: Oooh! I like you already! But I’m so old and worn out … I dont know if i can give that much because … and told Mantwo her story.
Mantwo: Cried bucketfuls of tears into the earth and asked for forgiveness from “Mother Earth!”
Soil: She soaked it all in and swelled with pride. “This is a true Son of the Soil!” she exclaimed with joy.
Mantwo: He got every animal manure and made a plan for rotational farming. He made an elaborate plan for a balanced garden where plants and weeds could complement each others’ nutrients and protection instincts.
He watered every day, as he sang to the earth, seeds, sun, and trees. He made sculptures when she wanted rest. And made dancing fountains to express their joy, together, to share with visitors.
Observer: Next year saw mother earth blossom and swoon with joy. They came one by one, from far and wide, and then in throngs. Within three years, Mantwo had to set up a ticket booth to control influx of the crowds.
Soil: She giggled in the breeze like a happy little school girl.
Mantwo: He called ‘their’ garden, Mirth, My Earth!
Observer: No more scared, soil felt Sacred!