I was born in prosperity’s home, brought into the world by her hands, nursed by her tender bosom. She raised me as if I were her only child, teaching me to love only her and that which she thought worthy of her temporal interests. When I was still small she gave me the most peculiar pair of green contacts. She told me to wear them always. If ever I removed them, she assured me, I would risk gazing upon a sea of despair and likely cease to recognize her lovely face. It was a thought too painful to bear. At first they felt uncomfortable, but soon I got used to them. As the years passed I eventually forgot I was even wearing them.
Then one day I left home in search of a gift for her. I entered a small shop and was immediately surrounded by clear jars of fragrance. An old woman sat in the corner. She sang as she slowly rocked her fragile body back and forth. She sang a song I had never heard. The words were simple.
So many sorrows, so little time
I’ll touch your sorrow if you will touch mine
No more tomorrows, don’t waste your time
Give love today make your life divine
I stood and listened to her repeating the verse over and over. I was briefly mesmerized by her raspy acapella voice. Soon I regained my wits and returned my attention to the task at hand. I took one jar from the shelf and smelled the contents. There was nothing. Bewildered, I grabbed a second and a third jar. Nothing. I turned to the proprietor in frustration only to see her smiling in return.
“Well I would say so! You’ve got this place filled with odorless fragrances!”
The woman paused without losing her smile.
“You must be Prosperity’s son.”
“How do you know who I am? And why would I want to visit a shop that sells tiny jars of water?”
“I would have you know that everything in this shop is free, and I know who you are because of your poor sight.”
“I told you. My sight is fine. I can see you, I can see these jars, I can even see the water in the jars.”
“That’s not water. It’s tears.
“Tears? Where did they come from?”
“People of course.”
“What do you do with so many tears?”
“I give them away.”
“Give them away?”
“Yes, to people with the capacity to love. When somebody’s pain is too difficult to deal with on there own they come here and we cry together. I put the tears in a jar. Then they go home with someone else’s jar.”
“Why on earth would they leave with someone else’s tears?
“To pray for them. Every time they see that jar of tears they are moved to pray for the person who shed them.”
“Well they look like water to me. I do believe this is the most peculiar place I have ever come across?
“The jars have no meaning to you because your vision is blurred.”
“I told you. My vision is fine.”
“In spite of the contacts?”
“What contacts?” As soon as I gave the response the memory struck me like a bolt of lightning.
“I am wearing contacts! Green contacts! How did you know that?”
I felt confusion pressing in on me. Is this woman toying with me? How can she know these things?
“So if I remove the contacts will I somehow see these tears differently?”
“No. You will feel them differently.”
I carefully removed the contacts. My eyes were blurry for a second but soon they regained focus. The old woman widened her smile before she spoke.
“Here. Take a jar.”
When I took the jar, I was immediately overcome by emotions. The person who had shed these tears was in pain over the loss of a loved one. It was sorrow that I had never experienced. Tears came to my eyes even though I didn’t even know this person’s name. The old woman took my hand.
“Growing up in Prosperity’s house often makes us numb to the world. Things are going to look different to you for a while.”
I was shaking. I was at a loss for words.
“What do I do now?”
“Go and pray for he who shed those tears. When you’re ready, come back and we can make sure someone prays for you. Welcome to the land of the loving.”
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