Tygarjas Twyrls Blog

In the beginning . . .

Chapter 20

Enoch sat at his father’s feet, “Abba, why do we exist?”

Jared raised an eyebrow in response, “That’s quite a question for a five year old, Enoch.” He stared at his son for a few moments while Enoch stared back, still, silent, awaiting a response. Jared stroked his chin as he slowly began to speak again, “The truth is, son, I don’t really know. But I’m sure God had a very good reason.” Jared folded his arms and reclined, contented that he had answered his child’s question well.

“Who is God, Daddy?”

The contentment left Jared’s face as he became again tense. “Why, He’s the creator of us!”

“Then, can you take me to him so that I can ask him why he created us, father?”

“Well, son, as far as I know, the last person to have a conversation with God was your Great, Great, Great, Great Grandfather Adam. If the question is still with you in the Spring time, I suppose you could ask him at the time in which we celebrate his creation and the fact that he is the origin of all of our existences, if you like . . .”

“You can’t just ask him now, father?”

“Well, son, it is a bit of a journey from where we are. And, being as young as you are, I’m not sure how the old man would receive your question since you are so young. But, as I said before, if this question burns inside of you with such sincerity that you would still retain it till the time of the celebration of his existences beginning, I’m sure he will be intrigued enough, and be impressed enough by the sincerity of the invention-of-mind by the furthest reaches of his creativity, you, that he will be happy to answer you with the full extent of what he thinks the most useful answer to your questions could be.”

Enoch was hardly satisfied by his father’s answer. But, content that his question was a sincere one, and tormented so by his question accordingly, he decided that he would wait the short life-time to the Spring so that he could receive the answer from the one person his father claimed could answer it.

.  .  .

Amidst the festivities of the spring, sitting upon an ornate chair hand-carved by his grandson Human Being, Adam sat watching the existences he had created enjoying existence around him. From out of the crowd walked Descent in hand with Dedicated. Descent spoke first, “Great, Great, Great Grandfather, I honor your creation upon this day! My son, Dedicated, if it be pleasing to you on this day of the joy of your existence, has an unusual question which he would like to ask you that has been troubling him, apparently for some time.”

“Of course!” Responded the 627-year-old man with a wide beaming smile toward his five-year-old great, great, great, great grandson. “I’ve been alive long enough that I welcome anything one of my creations deems ‘unusual.’ What is this vexation of the mind that has you disturbed, so very young Dedicated? Please, sit on my knee.”

And so the young Enoch climbed atop his ancient ancestor’s knee, “Great, Great, Great, Great Grandfather, what I asked my father months ago, which he apparently couldn’t answer was, why do we exist? To which my father responded that God has a good reason, so I asked if I could talk to God so that I could meet him and talk to him myself. Dad said if anyone knows where God is so I could ask him, it would be you.” Dedicated recollected his breath as Man answered him. Smiling, Adam replied, “You exist, my young descendent, so that God could look at Itself. If you wish to ask of God, you have but to silence your own voice completely, and any question you could have will quickly be answered.”

Dedicated stared up at the old man with eyes wide and mouth agape as he found himself silent and looking into the first eyes that ever perceived existence. He nodded, thanked his Great, Great, Great, Great Grandfather, then climbed off of his knee. Dedicated found himself silent from the moment his feet touched the ground, to the moment he took his father’s hand as they made their way home from the gathering, until finally he was tucked into his bed. That night Enoch dreamed of sitting in the middle of a field, all alone, on a warm summer day, staring at a doe several feet off, not a thought in his head.