I’m a pig clinging onto the shade of a mango tree; I want to be muddied. The heat is making me anxious and the reserve of my spirit wants to lash out at anyone who bothers my rest. I’m dormant until I see a pillar of cloud- I will fry in the sun if I move before my master moves me. He steadies my thoughts and eases me into a deep sleep.
A loud thud scrambles me up to my feet. I notice a potato-shaped fruit within ten feet of me. I approach it and with curiosity I begin to smear it on my lips; I take a bite and its nectar gives me flash images of bees, beekeepers, and honey. My large front teeth begin biting and the sensation melts away my fears and worries- I’m finally enjoying the here and now.
I can’t believe I’m done; where did this mango come from? I begin frantically digging the ground. One hole, two holes, and three holes later I’m starting to taste bitterness again. WHERE DID THIS MANGO COME FROM? I smell its proximity- it must come from underneath. That’s it. I unleash my snout to work like its never done before. I keep digging one hole after another; it’s just not there. Unforgiving that my efforts have gone to waste, I sulk in defeat.
Just then, another mango descends from the tree- this time it hits me on my head. Funny- so all this time this goodness came from above. I recline on my back and see that there will be many more that drop before the winter season. This time I take the seed of this mango and plant it in one of the many holes I’ve created. This is what the last pig must have done for me to enjoy this fruit- he must have planted this shade to replenish me both with taste and touch. And now I’m doing the same for the next sojourner. I intercede in prayer; “Don’t worry, pig, it may seem like you’ve lost all hope on your journey but you are underneath a shade; the blessings of life don’t come from our own digging and searching; look above and know that the Lord is good”. I close my eyes and fall back to sleep.