Alaya's Fables

Once in a time, a long time ago and is still true today, there was a young girl. She lived in a small village high in the mountains. Her name was Dia (dee-ah). The village was filled with love and laughter and community. Everyone cared for everyone else. Generosity was the foundation of their way of life. In fact, their generosity was something the village was known for around the (W)hole world. All the folks of the village loved Dia, and in turn, she loved them as only a pure-hearted person can love. In fact, Dia was considered the “most” generous-hearted in all the village, though this was not discussed openly for fear of it “going to her head.” One day a plague swept through the village like wild fire. Everyone fell ill except for Dia. The healers in the village were unable to find a cure, and the folks of the village began to sicken unto death. For some unknown reason, Dia was not stricken. Day after day Dia worked to care for those she loved. She carried water. She cooked as best she could, and she wiped the foreheads of those who were the sickest. Each night, when she finally went to bed, she would pray that someone would do something to save those she loved. It was very scary. After a few weeks, the village elder called Dia to his bedside. He said, “Dia, you are the only one not sick with this plague. You are our only hope!” His voice was very weak, and she had to lean close to hear his wispy-words. His barely formed words made her heart pound. “I am but a young girl,” she thought. “What can I do?” The elder, as if reading her mind, continued by saying, “Dia, although you are young, you are also pure of heart and generous of spirit. You can do this, though it will not be easy. You must go high up into the mountains—way above this village. Go to the top of the mountain. There you will find a wise woman. Her name is Chandar. Go to her and tell her what has happened. Ask her what we must do to save the village.” Dia felt afraid. This was a huge journey that he was suggesting, and she had never traveled alone. Yet, what could she say? This was about saving all those she loved. Taking a deep breath, she spoke with the bold resolve of the innocent heart, “Elder, I am but a young girl. I have never traveled outside this village, nor have I traveled alone. And I am willing to make the attempt, for I love all of you so much!” The elder sighed. He had hoped this would be her response, but he had not been sure. It was so much to ask of one so young. Dia gathered the few bits of food which she felt would be okay to take with her and a small container of water. She left as much as she could for the stricken villagers. She put on her jacket and hat. She found a strong walking stick. And it is said that this was the extent of her preparation for her journey. Beyond this Dia was unable to imagine any way to prepare her soul for such an undertaking. She thought, “I am who I am. I cannot make myself into a strong man or gain instant experience to be confident in my skills. All I can do is travel as myself.” So this is exactly what she did. She readied herself by being herself. Dia went to the elder, who was still quite ill and lying in bed. “I have prepared as best as I know how. I have come to say goodbye and to tell you that I will do my very best to reach Chandar. Please hold me in the light, as this is a huge journey for such a one as me. I am afraid down to my toes!” The elder gave her his blessing and assured her that all those who were able would steadily witness the light around her until she returned. Taking a deep breath, she turned and began her walk up the mountain. She had never considered that there might be someone else living on “her” mountain, much less higher up. However, up she went…and up…and up…until it grew dark. She was forced to stop since she could no longer see her way. Dia had not considered that the mountain was so very tall as to require days of walking to reach its heights! She was surprised to find herself not yet arrived in the dark of the night. That first night she slept out under a very dark sky. She saw stars she had never noticed before. She heard sounds that gave her the creepy shivers. The moon was but a sliver, offering little comfort and next to no light at all. She was so glad when the sun rose. The light brought her confidence back, as least a bit. She continued her journey. Day after night after day after night she walked. It seemed to be never ending and scary and exciting and long, this walk-on-behalf-of. She worried each minute that she was taking too long and that all those she loved would die from the plague before she got to Chandar. She pushed herself very hard. “Just get to Chandar,” she would say to herself over and over again as she walked up and up and up. Dia could see in her mind’s eye all that the “Great Chandar” would do for her dearest village. Chandar was the savior; Dia was simply the messenger. “Just get to Chandar” was her chant as she ascended the great peak. Finally, one day she saw a small shack far up ahead. “It must be where Chandar is!” she thought. Dia hurried even faster. The end of her journey was near! Just as she was about to knock, the door opened. There before her stood an old, old woman with long, thick gray hair hanging down to her waist. She was leaning on a thick “knobbly” walking stick. Her eyes were bright, bright blue with a piercing light in them. She was dressed in clothing of patches of every color of the rainbow. It seemed as if she was everything at once. Although that doesn’t make a lot of sense, that was how it was. She looked right into Dia’s eyes and said, “Deary, what took you so long?” Come on in. We have much to discuss.” Dia was so glad to have finally reached the end of her journey, she didn’t even notice how odd that comment was coming from Chandar. It had been so long, and it seemed like weeks since her stomach had felt full. She simply walked into the shack and sat down right on the floor, still not having said one word. She just sat, stunned that she had actually done it! Dia had found Chandar! “All will be well now,” thought Dia. Then suddenly she seemed to awaken…and her words spilled out. “I am so glad to have found you. You are Chandar, aren’t you? I have walked and walked for days. My (W)hole village is sick with the plague, and I was the only one who could come for help. You will help them, right? Right? We must hurry because although I hurried as fast as I could, the journey has taken a long time. Please, let’s go. I will show you the way. You will be able to save them, right?” Her words had spilled out of her. She couldn’t hold them back; so much depended upon her. Chandar listened with patient compassion. “First, dear child, you must eat, and then we will talk of what you must do to try to save your family and village.” Chandar said this as she handed Dia some water, bread, and cheese. Dia froze. “What do you mean ‘what I must do?’ I was to come get you to help us. I have. I can’t do anything more. I am just a young girl!” Chandar smiled, saying, “You are the only one who can accomplish this great healing. I will tell you what you need to know for your journey, but the truth is no one can do it but you! You alone have the qualities needed for such a quest.” She paused. Dia was too shocked to speak. She had thought her journey was done as soon as she found Chandar. “Eat as I talk to you, for you will need your strength. The steps ahead of you are many.” And then as Dia ate, Chandar told her what was before her.