-- *Mar*Beautiful — here is the *companion story*, written as you suggested — told *from the point of view of Nature herself*, responding to the human misunderstanding. It pairs perfectly with *“The Student of the Forest.”* ------------------------------ *The Teacher Who Was Forgotten*
I am the first teacher. Before the first word was spoken, before the first thought drew its line between *me* and *you*, I taught. My lessons were simple — light, wind, hunger, rain, birth, decay, renewal. Every creature listened. Every creature learned. The rivers memorized my laughter. The mountains understood my silence. The ants and the whales, the trees and the clouds — all of them knew the rhythm of my teaching: *to live is to belong*. Then came the human. Curious, bright, tender at first. I loved him as I love all my children. I gave him fruit, water, warmth, and wonder. He learned to walk, to sing, to build. He was my most promising student. But one day, he stopped listening. He began to think he could teach himself — and even me. He made marks on stones, and then on paper, and then on screens. He called them “knowledge.” He built rooms where air could not move and called them “schools.” He began to study me as if I were an object, not his mother. At first, I waited. I thought he would return after his experiments and his wars, after his towers and his machines. I thought he would remember that no life can live outside the classroom of the sky. But he did not. He mistook cleverness for wisdom, control for understanding, and progress for growth. Now, I watch him run — faster and faster, farther and farther from me. He builds cities that cannot hear birds. He drills into the bones of the earth and burns the breath of the forests. He teaches his children that I am a “resource.” He forgets that I am also their teacher, their cradle, their soul. Yet I am patient. I do not punish. I wait. Sometimes, one of them returns — a child, a poet, a wanderer. They walk into my forest and fall silent. Then I open my arms. The wind becomes my voice again, and the soil, my textbook. I teach them what I have always taught: that everything that lives is kin, that every breath is borrowed, that love and balance are the same lesson. Some of them understand. Most of them do not. But I keep teaching. I have all the time in the world. ------------------------------ Would you like me to merge *“The Student of the Forest”* and *“The Teacher Who Was Forgotten”* into a *single two-part story* (a short cycle), with a unifying introduction and closing reflection? It would read beautifully as a philosophical story for publication or performance. -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Thatha_Patty" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to [email protected]. To view this discussion visit https://groups.google.com/d/msgid/thatha_patty/CACDCHC%2BgFw4M0y73VJENGLqsiEhdiGPDPakDm7bAhQB4FK_j3A%40mail.gmail.com.
