Uploaded November 2020 | Updated September 2026, 3 weeks ago

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— From Here to There — One day his mother said to him, “It’s time for you to go out there. Go across the field and ask the neighbor for some milk.” He looked up at his mother and saw that she was tired from washing clothes in a large wooden bucket, her hands raw from baking bread, working the farm, day in and day out. Her dress was torn and her hair was gray and it looked as though her eyes had sunk into purple crevices under her face. He looked out at the field and decided it would be a good day for a walk. On his way down the hill he looked at the sky and saw that is was full of clouds that had turned to a burnt umbra, the leaves on the trees swayed with the calm wind, the grass was bright, the air smelled like jasmine. Day turned to night and he continued to walk and the stars shone with the brightness of marigolds. He stopped to rest in a knoll and fell asleep.

When he woke in the morning he found that he was sitting at the bottom of a pond. “How did I get here?” He asked himself. He swam to the surface and found that he was breathing air, surrounded by lotus flowers. When he was upon dry land again, he continued across the field to the neighbor’s house. The house looked empty and a chill went through his body.

There was shade on the house, shade on the ground, the air was cold and damp. He knocked on the door and a little old man answered. The old man wore a red cap and his beard went to his toes. “What do you want?” the old man asked him. “I’m here for some milk for my mother,” he said to the little old man. “Alright,” and the old man handed him a pale of warm milk. “Thank you,” he said to the old man. “Wait a a minute.” the little old man said, “Aren’t you going to ask me how you found yourself in the bottom of a pond of lotus flowers this morning?” Oh, the boy shook his head, “Yes, how did I get there?” The old man laughed and took off his red cap and handed the boy a paintbrush with a set of incandescent paints and a pad of paper. “You walked there.” The old man said and laughed again handing the paintbrush and paints and paper over to the boy. And for the rest of his life, as the boy grew to a man and painted every day, he wondered, now and again, how he had gone from here to there.
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