Wakeup Call Message
December 23, 2004

 

 Sananda 

 

          All my little children of dreamland and beyond, do you know what day it is, and what month this day rides in? This is the day of absolute character spoof, and in this day there are many surprises, for you are going on a journey that bespeaks the frivolity of days gone by and days to come. In this spoof, there is no now, and yet thatís all there is, and if that isnít a challenge for you, then I certainly donít know what is. It is certainly a challenge for me, and I AM learning this game right along with you. I AM Sananda, and I welcome you to the land of absurdity.

          First we will come to a place where we look into the future. There is a huge tree alongside a rooster. The rooster is regarding the tree with a certain disdain, for the tree is adorned with feathers. What are those feathers doing on that tree when they ought to be on me? You see, the rooster has no feathers, and it is snowing all around him. He is shivering from the cold, and soon he feels he will grow into a huge icicle and lay frozen on the ground.

          My friends, this is a time in the game when we bring a ray of sunshine into the picture. The sun peeks out from behind a cloud and shines down on this rooster. He warms up a bit, and stops shivering for a few moments. He now looks at the tree and sees that the feathers are beginning to disappear and fall from the tree. The ones that disappear suddenly re-appear on him, all tucked in and beginning to warm him already. Now he is twice warmed, first by the sun, and now by the sun-kissed feathers.

          Soon a lollipop falls to the ground at his feet. Where did that come from, and why is it here at my feet, he wonders. This isnít something I can eat; it is full of sugar and hard as a rock. Yet he leans down and gives it a huge lick with his tongue. Wow, that tastes good, but how can I ever get it in my mouth, for it is too big? This is when he sees that the cold around him cracks it, and it breaks into many little pieces. Now he can take one wee bit of it into his mouth and allow it to melt the sweetness and trickle down his throat.

          Boy, I like this game, he thinks. I just may allow my mind to wander some more and see what comes next. When he stood straight and tall and looked around, he saw a little girl who had been watching all that took place. This little girl had dropped the lollipop at his feet, and was afraid now to pick up any of the pieces, for she was afraid that she would get picked at by the rooster.

          How did I know that? The rooster was amazed that he could read her mind. This little girl looked so vulnerable and lonely; I must make sure that she knows I am her friend. I know, I will offer her some of this candy. So he slides a large piece of the lollipop over to her with his beak. There, that ought to tell her that Iím friendly.

          The little girl hesitantly reached down and picked up the candy. She smiled at the rooster, and knew that she would always like this rooster, and be his friend. She laid her hand on his smooth feathers and soon the feathers lay on the ground at her feet. What is this, cried the rooster? What has happened? Why are my feathers on the ground and not on me?

          With that admonition, the breeze picked up and soon the feathers were flying through the air in a gentle, flutter of cascading fluffiness. They gently settled down all around and over the branches of a nearby tree. The feathers completely adorned the tree, and soon they were glistening in the light of the snowflakes as they gently fell all around. The rooster saw the sight, and exclaimed, ďOh my what a sight to behold, it looks like a heavenly picture of love all covered with white angel dust! There must be a spell upon me to be blessed with such a sight!Ē

          Then a little girl came by and danced up to the rooster. She picked him up and cuddled him in her arms to warm him, and dance all around the tree. The sun peeked out from behind a cloud and tipped the feathers and the branches with silver and gold. What a sight to behold! And then the farmer came round the corner and saw what was taking place. This was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. So he lifted the girl in his arms and took the rooster from her. Then he raised his axe and started to swing it toward the tree. This was a fine specimen to grace his living room for the holidays.

          ďNo, no!Ē the girl exclaimed. ďThis tree is a magic tree and the rooster is its mate. Whenever the tree needs a new coat the rooster gives his to it, and then when the rooster becomes cold and rigid, the tree unleashes itís own and allows it to settle on the rooster and warm him. Can you not see the perfection?Ē

          The farmer paused in mid swing, and pondered what the girl had cried. This is a bit strange, for the tree was perfectly adorned. Yet on second glance, I see that the tree is bare except for the needles on itís branches, and the rooster is the one who prances around my yard all day. He then whispered to the little girl, ďCome my dear sweet granddaughter. We will go out and find the most beautiful tree we can, and invite it to be a part of our Christmas celebration. Then we can all have our own celebration in any way we want, for there will be no taking of anotherís beauty unless the one is ready for the gift to be given.Ē

          So the little girl smiled up at her grandfatherís wrinkled, jolly face and gave him a big kiss right on the end of his nose. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the biggest lollipop he had ever seen. ďThis is for you, Grandpa. I was given this by a very dear friend of mine; and now I want you to have it. She handed it over to him, and as he reached out to accept the loving gift, a small feather drifted away from the top of it on the winters breeze that had been kissed by the sun that suddenly appeared.

          If you want to make sense of this tale, then all you need do is listen and experience with your heart, and know that all the ingredients are there. The gift of love, and giving, and generosity are all there. Here is my gift for you of a fun way to make up a story and have it be only in the now and the past and the future, without being any of them. Have fun with your holidays, and make up some games with your children. And then donít be surprised at what gifts may come your way.

 

Thank you dear Master Sananda,

Love, Nancy Tate