The Mystery of Life

[Naga_Fireball]

A little girl walked in the garden with her great-grandmother.

They held hands and observed the flowers, the birds, and the many insects busily working to support the world.

Grandmother, the little girl finally asked, when they had reached the end of the garden,
Why do we have to die?

The old woman smiled and knelt down to look her granddaughter in the eye.

Look at those flowers, look at those birds, she said,
Why even the bees are dressed more finely than I.

Each and every one of them, so very alive,
And not one of the lot stops his work to ask why.

The little girl shivered and squeezed grandma's hand.
But we know that it's there, she replied.

The old woman laughed and said Daughter,
We are not the only lives that matter.

See that fly, sitting there? If you were to snatch him out of the air, and into your hand, it would be the end of him.

Sometimes the closer we look at things, the less of them we see.

We spend a good deal of the day immersed in our dreams -- there is much more to it all than our waking eyes see.

There is more of You and more of Me
Than one pair of mortal eyes can see.

You cannot look too closely at a dream.

Satisfied with that answer, the little girl fell silent and walked the rest of the garden path with her grandmother, finally appreciating things for what they were, instead of for what they were not.