colector: [JournalWriting] The Garden

Viewing the garden was perhaps the most wonderful moment of my day. It
contained a wide variety of flowers but the roses seemed to be the
specialty.

Thankfully it was on the way to my office. So, everyday I paused for a
while to have a look over it. The freshness of the fragrance and
beauty of the flowers always gave me a pleasant memory for the rest of
the day.

As days turned into weeks I began to wonder who took care of them so
well. Then one day I was late for work and I discovered a middle-aged
man was taking care of it.

Then I began to notice him more often as he spent his time taking care
of each and every plant.

From talking to others about the garden and the man I learned that he
was not friendly. In fact he had gained a reputation for being rude to
people who asked him for a flower. It seems he had only love for his
garden and for no one else. People said they never saw him relaxing;
he was working so dedicatedly to make the garden beautiful day by day.

His dedication, rudeness and the garden made my curiosity high to know
more about him.

I learned the garden belonged to a rich man and he was living there
with his family, wife and a daughter.

One spring day, while passing by the garden I saw a rose, a dark red
rose. It was just after a rain and it sparkled like a diamond. I
decided this time to talk to him. He was little surprise at my
compliments and instead of being rude; he gave me the rose and even
asked me back.

On a later visit I asked, "Sir, at the risk of inquiring too deeply
into your private life, I would like to ask a question."

"Ask, and then I will answer."

"Sir, why is this garden so important to you?"

"You really don't understand do you?"

"I have heard that you have refused to give even one flower, Sir. Is
it just a matter of one flower?"

"Didn't I give you the Tanelorak you ask for?"

"Oh, is that the name? Yes sir. And that makes me curious also."

"I gave you the rose because I was told to. The purpose I serve this
garden is not for the flowers. The things I do I can't help but do.
The purpose is for the one I serve. For this purpose the presence of
every flower in this garden is most important. I can't break his rule."

"Now who create the rule, the master of the Garden? Just for his
pleasure, right?"

"No child, I'm talking about the creator. God."

"God? You want to please God by keeping this garden beautiful and by
not sharing the flowers?"

"No. The garden is not to please God. With God we have to do what he
wants from us."

Suddenly a girl appeared. She looked to be nearly 10 years old. I
guessed she was daughter of the rich man whose this garden belonged.
She ignored my presence and just touched softly the flowers, looked at
them with amazement and happiness. Her eyes sparkled when she looked
around her. It seemed that she was The Princess of her kingdom, the
garden. I noticed she was frail and ill. After just a little while she
looked tired and went back to the house.

The gardener seeing my concern said "She is dying." I was shocked. He
said "I'm working on God's wish to keep her happy. To let her feel the
happiness and reduce the pain she is going through. I can't compromise
on her happiness and I can't cheat on my duties." I saw a tear in his
eyes? I didn't know what to say. I left with a heavy heart.

I was again late for work, but that day I left with a message I felt
was from God himself, "The purpose each of our lives is different.
Every one has their own special route to serving God. There is no
small or big work. The only thing that matters is a pure will to serve
God."