THE MIRACLE WORKER    

 

February 7, 1997

 

Dear Homo Sapiens of Earth:

    

     Legend has it that in the snows of Kilimanjaro, the carcass of a plains leopard was found.  No one knew what it had gone up there to seek.  But when one of your number, Anthony by name joined the climb of Mt. Kilimanjaro five days ago, he knew, for he was there to seek the very same thing, which the leopard evidently succeeded in finding.

     Days before he boarded my one-way flight two weeks ago from Vancouver to Dar Es Salaam, he had gracelessly quit his job, and ruthlessly gave away the physical remnants of his life – his real estate holdings, his car, his money, his credit, even his beloved horse.  He had not bid farewell to a single soul, although he’d come prepared to never return.

     At pain of extra weight, he carried a hand gun, which he kept in the bottom of his pack - not that there was much to shoot up on the altitudes, nor to fear, but the gun itself.  In five daily segments, the group had made the snow line, where he detached himself without a backwards glance.  Another half-day’s solitary ascent brought him further up to this ice-cave in which he is now writing this entry.  What he is writing about is the religious experience from which he had just emerged, as the miracle worker that he had just become. 

     Not an hour ago, as the sun was declining in the western sky, transforming the cave into a glowing, rosy tomb, he was sitting exactly here, but doing something altogether different - pointing the gun at the temple of the temple of his soul. 

     Failing to pull the trigger after some eons-long minutes, he had set the deadline for the fatal moment, that by the time the sun had disappeared beneath the western horizon, either he would have died, or face the prospect of descending the mountain as what he would consider a terminal coward.  He would slink back to the meaningless existence he had climbed up here to escape, but thereafter it would be just his body undergoing the physical motions of survival, for his soul would have since its final sunset on Earth irretrievably departed.

     It was when the great red solar orb seemed having just soft-landed on the hazy Serengeti plains far to the west, and his gun hand had starting trembling from the cold and his trigger finger had become numb from the strain, that I finally addressed him for the first time.

     “Forgive me for intruding at this last moment of your privacy.  I will make it brief, if you will allow me.” 

     To the best of his recollection it was not exactly a voice that had spoken, but rather more like an idea that seemed beamed from the starry sky into the small space confined by his yet intact skull.

     For at least a hundred of his remaining heartbeats he did not respond, and I said to him, “I’m seeking a miracle worker, to work a miracle upon this Earth, for her sake and on my behalf.  Since you seem to have no more need for this amazing instrument of yours, which obviously is in excellent working condition, will you donate it to me such that the purpose of this my sojourn on Earth be fulfilled?”

     This notion is clearly so alien to him that he could hardly claim it as his own.  So the first question that leapt to his mind was, “Who are you?”

     “I am Raminothna, the Fortunate and Called Upon, at your service.” 

     To him, “Raminothna” was not exactly spelled out either, nor was sound involved.  It, too, was an idea, though one he did not at once grasp.  Somehow, it struck him to be a name that had retrogressed from the future.

     “Say again?  Who are you?”  He just wanted to “hear” my “voice” again.

     “I am Raminothna, the Fortunate and Called Upon, at your service.”

     “That’s just a name.  What are you, then?”

     “What am I?  Once you have answer this same question for yourself, you’ll know what I am.”

     “Look, I’m in no mood, nor do I have the time, for a philosophical discussion right now.”

     “If not now, when?”

     “Maybe later.  Maybe never.  Who cares?”

     “I do.”

     “Alright, fine.  Let’s get this over and done with.  What do you want?”

     “As I said, I’m seeking a miracle worker, to work a miracle upon this Earth, for her sake and on my behalf.”

     “So, we’re back from the universal philosophical question to the joke, are we?”

     “It is no joke.”

     “For me to perform a miracle?  I can’t even if I want to.”

     “Is this a yes?”

     “No.”

     “Is it a no then?”

     “No.  Yes.  I don’t know.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “I mean: Look at me, for Christ’s sake.  I can’t even pull a trigger.  Do I look like a miracle worker to you?”

     “What does a miracle worker look like?”

     “The last one I know looked like Jesus Christ.”

     “And what does Jesus Christ look like?”

     The classical painting “The Last Supper” materialized in my mind.

     “What are these creatures?”

     “What creatures?”

     “The thirteen creatures depicted in this painting.”

     “They are human beings, for God’s sake!”

     “Which among these human beings is Jesus Christ?”

     “The one in the middle.”

     “I can’t tell him apart from the others, cosmically speaking.  He looks as human as the rest.  As human as you.  So, on this Earth, a miracle worker should look like you.”

     “Look.  I’m no miracle worker.  Can’t you just accept that?”

     “Define ‘miracle’.”

     “No!  It’s you who want to talk.  You define it!”

     “Very well.  Let’s say: A miracle is an impossible physical feat with a profound spiritual significance.”

     “So you’re saying I can perform not only an impossible physical feat, but one with a profound spiritual significance?”

     “Exactly.”

     “I’m glad we finally got this point straightened out.  So now I can say, definitively, no ifs and buts, and for the last time, I can not.”

     “If I prove to you that you can, will you?”

     “What kind of proof?”

     “Let me give you a basic one.  I tell you that you can raise ten gallons of water from the plain 18,000 feet below up to here, in liquid form from beginning to end, all in the matter of five days, without artificial aid of any kind.”

     “Ten gallons of water?  Without artificial aid of any kind?  No buckets, no hoses, no boilers, no condensers . . .?”

     “None, except the clothes you are now wearing, and the boots on your feet.”

     “Impossible, even with buckets.” 

     “Thus, according to our definition, miraculous, considering its profound spiritual significance.”

     “What spiritual significance?”

     “First and foremost, that you are a miracle worker.”

     “Circular reasoning.”

     “Indeed.  With no beginning and no end.”

     “I can’t produce this proof for you, I’m sorry.”

     “You already have.”

     “I what?”

     “You have already raised the water.”

     “What water?” 

     “The water you’ve already raised up, of course.”

     “All ten gallons of it, I suppose.”

     “And all in liquid form, as stipulated, minus your sweat, I have to admit.”

     “And where is this water I have raised up without artificial aid of any kind?”

     “Right where you are.”

     He cast a glance around.  “I see lots of ice, but it’s been here for eons, and certainly not due to me.  Besides, it is in solid form.  Liquid water?  There is not a drop in sight, except the couple of pints still in my flask, and the flask is an artificial aid.” 

     “It’s here.”

     “Well then, you’ll just have to show it to me.”

     “Before I do, you must promise me one thing.”

     “O Lord!  What now?”

     “The power of miracle is never to be abused.”

     “Sure, no problem.  If I do have this power, I will never abuse it.  Alright?”

     “Nor to be neglected.”

     “Nor will I neglect it.”

     “Then, look inward, inside your skin, where you will find, flowing through your arteries and veins, and tissues and organs including your heart and your brain, ten gallons of warm, living water.  You can baptize the world’s lost souls with it, and quench the world’s thirst for understanding with it.  Even, you can fertilize the deserts of humanity with it, extinguish the fires in your nuclear weapons with it, and dissolve in it the despair of humankind.  With this sacred water, you can change your world, even save your Earth.”  

     Without his knowing, as the moonlight filtered through the ice onto his gun, he saw that it had settled itself into his lap.

     “Level with me, Raminothna.  Why are you here?”

     “You really want to know?”

     “Try me.”

     “Very well.  First and foremost, I am here to deliver to you a cosmic warning.”

     “What kind of warning?”

     “Dear Homo Sapiens of Earth, whose foot prints now roam the craters of the moon, beware.  Beware of the Seven Cosmic Signs… (see Prologue)… In short, three words: “Greeting”, “Welcome” and “Help!”  And I, for one, hear them with joy and compassion.  For the first, I salute you; for the second, I come to you, and for the third, I devote my best to you.”

     He was speechless.

     “Henceforth, I shall see through your eyes, hear through your ears, feel through your heart, think through your brain, and work through your hands, until your greater miracle is accomplished. May the Tao be with you, Homo Sapiens of Earth.”

 

I am Raminothna

the Fortunate and the Called Upon

at your service  

 

 

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