|
The Girl Who Ate Sadness
by Virginia D. Mitchell
Once upon a time in a land much like our own there lived a woman named Eola. She had the extraordinary talent of eating sadness. Perhaps even more remarkable was she didn't know when she did it. If someone had asked
her why she ate sadness a look of confusion would have clouded her face as she replied, "What are you talking about? Do I not eat the same bread and drink the same wine as you? Do I not enjoy the mutton and
venison of the festivals? Why do you ask such foolish questions?" Yet whatever harm or disappointment came her way large or small she would quietly consume it and as she did the sadness would break down into a
sleeping potion that hid the truth and a poison that slowly ate away at her soul.
Like other women in her village Eola was married and tended the hearth. She was well known for her baking and her gardening. Her husband Sojay was a skilled craftsman and the home they made together was soon filled
with the sound of children. When Eola was pregnant with their first child she experienced more contentment than she could remember. She felt whole and complete. All was right with the world for all was right with
Eola. After the baby was born her joy expanded. Eola came alive introducing her child to the world. She reveled in the pleasure of summer rain on hot sweaty skin. She heard anew the call of the birds, the song of
the wind and the laughter of the streams. Now there was very little sadness but when it came up she would eat it without a second thought.
Soon there was a second child and then a third. Though her love for her children was as great as ever her joy was beginning to falter. The poison released by the sadness was building up inside her. The first
indication was a melancholy feeling whenever there was a lull in the families' activities. Then Eola began to notice all the little ways she failed to keep up just right with the children and the gardening and the
cooking and the sewing. Each time she failed no matter how small her error a voice inside her head would chastise her. Then she would feel all alone, cut off even from Sojay and the children and her friends. And
still she ate sadness though now the numbness could not keep pace with the poison. At these times especially she would know something must be wrong with her. Surely she was defective and she would redouble her
efforts to make life run smoothly for those she loved in hopes of covering her shame.
The children grew and life continued its predictable path until one night as the household lay in peaceful slumber a stranger came. He crept into the house as quietly as a breeze and struck Eola such a blow her
head cracked opened. In the excitement following the stranger slipped away. From far and wide friends and family gathered and their love and kindness saved her. As the weeks passed so did the danger of death. Now
came the years of recovering. Eola fervently hoped that in healing from the blow she might somehow conquer her defectiveness as well. Yet still she ate sadness and though she did not know she ate she knew something
was dreadfully wrong.
Eola began to search for how to heal and how to recover. She visited a crone who promised if she slowed down and listened she would hear her heart speak. Eola did as the crone directed and when her heart spoke she
grew afraid and wanted to run away. Eola went to the village herbalist. He was compassionate and listened deeply. He gave her herbs to brew into teas and when she drank them she was steadier and could see things
more clearly. Eola began to see her attacker as a dark angel for the blow had opened not only her head but a pathway to her heart as well. The pain and the poison she had carried inside for so long spilled out
revealing an ember of her true self still smoldering inside. The bone binder came and laid hands on her and as she felt her body relax Eola could listen to her heart without being afraid.
There was a mother in the village who was known for creating dishes that nourished the sick or injured. Her soups and broths, breads and porridges restored the color to a person's cheeks and the love that infused her
work revived their spirit. Eola sought her out. It was this mother who realized Eola was eating sadness. She kept this knowledge to herself though and simply listened to Eola and taught her all she could about
caring for the soul as well as the body. Little by little awareness crept into Eola until one day she suddenly realized she was starving for joy. She did not know why or how it had started she only knew she had been
eating sadness for a long, long time. For the first time in her memory Eola wept for herself. Slowly and with much practice Eola learned to feel sadness rather than eat it. Like dawn painting the countryside, the
subtle variations of emotions began to color her life. No longer was she confined to the prison of extremes. Eola discovered what would nurture her soul as well as nourish her body and day by day she practiced her
diet of life.
About this time Eola began visiting the crone again and now she discovered she was big enough to hold the messages of her heart. Her heart revealed why she had come to eat sadness and reminded her of joys she had
once known. Perhaps best of all her heart showed her a new path of joy. Eola began to weave with her heart and the clothes she made brought warmth to the body, peace to the mind and joy to the spirit. After all she
had been through Eola was at last restored to herself, to her family, to her community.
top
|
