Dreams by Olive Schreiner (bookstand for reading .txt) 📕

>feet, and since then he cannot help himself; but we have touched the maimed

stumps so often that now they shine brighter than anything in Heaven. We

pass him on that he may shine on things that need much heat. No one is

allowed to keep him long, he belongs to all”; and they went on among the

trees.

 

I said to God, “This is a strange land. I had thought blindness and

maimedness were great evils. Here men make them to a rejoicing.”

 

God said, “Didst thou then think that love had need of eyes and hands!”

 

And I walked down the shining way with palms on either hand. I said to

God, “Ever since I was a little child and sat alone and cried, I have

dreamed of this land, and now I will not go away again. I will stay here

and shine.” And I began to take off my garments, that I might shine as

others in that land; but when I looked down I saw my body gave no light. I

said to God, “How is it?”

 

God said, “Is there no dark blood in your heart; is it bitter against

none?”

 

And I said, “Yes—”; and I thought—“Now is the time when I will tell God,

that which I have been, meaning to tell him all along, how badly my fellow-men have treated me. How they have misunderstood me. How I have intended

to be magnanimous and generous to them, and they—.” And I began to tell

God; but when I looked down all the flowers were withering under my breath,

and I was silent.

 

And God called me to come up higher, and I gathered my mantle about me and

followed him.

 

And the rocks grew higher and steeper on every side; and we came at last to

a place where a great mountain rose, whose top was lost in the clouds. And

on its side I saw men working; and they picked at the earth with huge

picks; and I saw that they laboured mightily. And some laboured in

companies, but most laboured singly. And I saw the drops of sweat fall

from their foreheads, and the muscles of their arms stand out with labour.

And I said, “I had not thought in heaven to see men labour so!” And I

thought of the garden where men sang and loved, and I wondered that any

should choose to labour on that bare mountain-side. And I saw upon the

foreheads of the men as they worked a light, and the drops which fell from

them as they worked had light.

 

And I asked God what they were seeking for.

 

And God touched my eyes, and I saw that what they found were small stones,

which had been too bright for me to see before; and I saw that the light of

the stones and the light on the men’s foreheads was the same. And I saw

that when one found a stone he passed it on to his fellow, and he to

another, and he to another. No man kept the stone he found. And at times

they gathered in great company about when a large stone was found, and

raised a great shout so that the sky rang; then they worked on again.

 

And I asked God what they did with the stones they found at last. Then God

touched my eyes again to make them stronger; and I looked, and at my very

feet was a mighty crown. The light streamed out from it.

 

God said, “Each stone as they find it is set here.”

 

And the crown was wrought according to a marvellous pattern; one pattern

ran through all, yet each part was different.

 

I said to God, “How does each man know where to set his stone, so that the

pattern is worked out?”

 

God said, “Because in the light his forehead sheds each man sees faintly

outlined that full crown.”

 

And I said, “But how is it that each stone is joined along its edges to its

fellows, so that there is no seam anywhere?”

 

God said, “The stones are alive; they grow.”

 

And I said, “But what does each man gain by his working?”

 

God said, “He sees his outline filled.”

 

I said, “But those stones which are last set cover those which were first;

and those will again be covered by those which come later.”

 

God said, “They are covered, but not hid. The light is the light of all.

Without the first, no last.”

 

And I said to God, “When will this crown be ended?”

 

And God said, “Look up!”

 

I looked up; and I saw the mountain tower above me, but its summit I could

not see; it was lost in the clouds.

 

God said no more.

 

And I looked at the crown: then a longing seized me. Like the passion of

a mother for the child whom death has taken; like the yearning of a friend

for the friend whom life has buried; like the hunger of dying eyes for a

life that is slipping; like the thirst of a soul for love at its first

spring waking, so, but fiercer was the longing in me.

 

I cried to God, “I too will work here; I too will set stones in the

wonderful pattern; it shall grow beneath MY hand. And if it be that,

labouring here for years, I should not find one stone, at least I will be

with the men that labour here. I shall hear their shout of joy when each

stone is found; I shall join in their triumph, I shall shout among them; I

shall see the crown grow.” So great was my longing as I looked at the

crown, I thought a faint light fell from my forehead also.

 

God said, “Do you not hear the singing in the gardens?”

 

I said, “No, I hear nothing; I see only the crown.” And I was dumb with

longing; I forgot all the flowers of the lower Heaven and the singing

there. And I ran forward, and threw my mantle on the earth and bent to

seize one of the mighty tools which lay there. I could not lift it from

the earth.

 

God said, “Where hast THOU earned the strength to raise it? Take up thy

mantle.”

 

And I took up my mantle and followed where God called me; but I looked

back, and I saw the crown burning, my crown that I had loved.

 

Higher and higher we climbed, and the air grew thinner. Not a tree or

plant was on the bare rocks, and the stillness was unbroken. My breath

came hard and quick, and the blood crept within my finger-tips. I said to

God, “Is this Heaven?”

 

God said, “Yes; it is the highest.”

 

And still we climbed. I said to God, “I cannot breathe so high.”

 

God said, “Because the air is pure?”

 

And my head grew dizzy, and as I climbed the blood burst from my finger-tips.

 

Then we came out upon a lonely mountain-top.

 

No living being moved there; but far off on a solitary peak I saw a lonely

figure standing. Whether it were man or woman I could not tell; for partly

it seemed the figure of a woman, but its limbs were the mighty limbs of a

man. I asked God whether it was man or woman.

 

God said, “In the least Heaven sex reigns supreme; in the higher it is not

noticed; but in the highest it does not exist.”

 

And I saw the figure bend over its work, and labour mightily, but what it

laboured at I could not see.

 

I said to God, “How came it here?”

 

God said, “By a bloody stair. Step by step it mounted from the lowest

Hell, and day by day as Hell grew farther and Heaven no nearer, it hung

alone between two worlds. Hour by hour in that bitter struggle its limbs

grew larger, till there fell from it rag by rag the garments which it

started with. Drops fell from its eyes as it strained them; each step it

climbed was wet with blood. Then it came out here.”

 

And I thought of the garden where men sang with their arms around one

another; and the mountain-side where they worked in company. And I

shuddered.

 

And I said, “Is it not terribly alone here?”

 

God said, “It is never alone!”

 

I said, “What has it for all its labour? I see nothing return to it.”

 

Then God touched my eyes, and I saw stretched out beneath us the plains of

Heaven and Hell, and all that was within them.

 

God said, “From that lone height on which he stands, all things are open.

To him is clear the shining in the garden, he sees the flower break forth

and the streams sparkle; no shout is raised upon the mountain-side but his

ear may hear it. He sees the crown grow and the light shoot from it. All

Hell is open to him. He sees the paths mount upwards. To him, Hell is the

seed ground from which Heaven springs. He sees the sap ascending.”

 

And I saw the figure bend over its work, and the light from its face fell

upon it.

 

And I said to God, “What is it making?”

 

And God said, “Music!”

 

And he touched my ears, and I heard it.

 

And after a long while I whispered to God, “This is Heaven.”

 

And God asked me why I was crying. But I could not answer for joy.

 

And the face turned from its work, and the light fell upon me. Then it

grew so bright I could not see things separately; and which were God, or

the man, or I, I could not tell; we were all blended. I cried to God,

“Where are you?” but there was no answer, only music and light.

 

Afterwards, when it had grown so dark again that I could see things

separately, I found that I was standing there wrapped tight in my little

old, brown, earthly cloak, and God and the man were separated from each

other, and from me.

 

I did not dare say I would go and make music beside the man. I knew I

could not reach even to his knee, nor move the instrument he played. But I

thought I would stand there on my little peak and sing an accompaniment to

that great music. And I tried; but my voice failed. It piped and

quavered. I could not sing that tune. I was silent.

 

Then God pointed to me, that I should go out of Heaven.

 

And I cried to God, “Oh, let me stay here! If indeed it be, as I know it

is, that I am not great enough to sing upon the mountain, nor strong enough

to labour on its side, nor bright enough to shine and love within the

garden, at least let me go down to the great gateway; humbly I will kneel

there sweeping; and, as the saved pass in, I will see the light upon their

faces. I shall hear the singing in the garden, and the shout upon the

hillside—”

 

God said, “It may not be;” he pointed.

 

And I cried, “If I may not stay in Heaven, then let me go down to Hell, and

I will grasp the hands of men and women there; and slowly, holding one

another’s hands, we will work our way upwards.”

 

Still God pointed.

 

And I threw myself upon the earth and cried, “Earth