The (Almost) Forgotten Goddess

A Story by Aaron McEmrys

Luke’s parents owned one of the very last farms. For years now almost all the food was invented in laboratories and made in giant vats, so farms like Luke’s were like museums, forlorn places where nostalgic grandparents brought children to teach them about how the world used to be.

But Luke’s family had been farming for generations and they weren’t about to stop, no matter how unfashionable their neighbors thought them or how little money was left at the end of the month.

Luke’s main job was to take care of the chickens.

One morning he went out to collect the eggs and found a stranger sitting by the chicken coop. She was very old, and almost as bent and gnarled as the old tree stump she sat upon.

“Hi, I’m Luke. These are my chickens. Who are you?”

“Hmmm, who am I? Well, I guess you can call me Greenie. Yes, Greenie will do. These chickens of yours, they’re very special, you know” “Especially THAT one.”

“What do you mean? Old Maude there is the only one who bothers to lay eggs at all anymore.”

“Exactly. And if we don’t do something, that old hen of yours is about to lay the very last batch of eggs in the whole world.”

“How do you know that?”

“I have it on good authority. You see long before I was Greenie, I was someone else entirely. I had many names in many, many languages – the Green Goddess, Great Mother, Eostre, Daughter of the Moon. But that was long ago. All my names are lost and I am fading away. Spring eggs have always been my symbol and when the last egg is laid and forgotten I will be forgotten too, and vanish forever.”

Luke didn’t know what to think. But her eyes did shine with a faint light all their own, and her skin and hair did look, well, greenish. He couldn’t help it – he believed her.

“Can I help?” he asked.

“Why yes, young man, I think you can,” she said with a smile. “Let’s start by seeing about those eggs.”

Sure enough, Maude had done well – and the old hen looked quite pleased with herself perching on top of the biggest pile of eggs Luke had ever seen.

Greenie picked up a beautiful brown egg. “Well done, Maude. Well done.” She said, and Maude, the grumpy old hen bowed her head at the compliment.

“You’re kind to say so, my Queen.”

“Did that chicken just talk? What Queen?”

“That would be me. I told you I had many names. Luke, I need you to gather up all these eggs right away. There’s no time to lose!”

He did as the old woman asked, but when he came out of the coop, his arms full eggs, he stopped dead in his tracks.

There, in the middle of his backyard, stood Greenie, surrounded by dozens of rabbits!

“Are you sure you understand?” she asked a speedy-looking grey bunny.

“Yes, my Queen. We will fly across the fields.”

One by one the rabbits approached, their heads bowed respectfully as Greenie gently took a handful of eggs, closed her eyes and sang. And lush green flowering vines grew out of her hands, encircling, entwining the eggs, which now glowed with a soft inner light.

And off the rabbits raced with their vine baskets just as fast as their long legs could carry them. Far and wide they raced, hiding Greenie’s magic eggs among all the fake plastic eggs parents had left for their children.

You see, the people were about to celebrate Easter, even though they had long since forgotten that there’s anything more to it than neon plastic eggs and chocolate.

And so it came to pass that Caroline toddled back to her parents with her Easter basket almost entirely empty. She was crying because her brothers were so fast that they’d snatched up all the eggs except one, which sat forlornly in her basket.

“Mommy, I think my candy egg is hatching!”

But it wasn’t a candy egg at all, and it was, it really was - hatching!

First there was a tapping sound coming from inside the egg, then a tiny beak broke through and then, before Caroline’s astonished eyes, a fuzzy yellow chick appeared as bright and surprising as a rising sun!

Caroline stared in wonder as the chick opened its beak for the very first time, but it did not cheep. It sang, or rather Greenie’s beautiful voice sang through the chick’s fuzzy little body!

SONG

And it wasn’t just Caroline. Lots of people were serenaded by baby chicks that Easter morn, and everyone who heard that song remembered…even in that lonely world where everything seemed to be made of plastic, they remembered that the Earth really is our Mother, that she loves us, and misses us when we forget her. And that she will take care of us always, but we have to help her.

As the chicks sang and the people remembered, something happened to Greenie. The years fell away and she stood up straight and tall, her green hair waving like meadow grass adorned with flowers.

“Ah, now that’s better,” she said her voice now soft like thunder. “Give me your hands, Luke, so I can thank you.”

The boy held out his trembling hands and Greenie took them in her own. She looked deep into his eyes and smiled, and his hands began to tingle. And for the rest of his long, long life, his hands always looked, well, greenish. His crops grew tall, and no one had ever saw or tasted anything quite as wonderful as the fruits and vegetables that grew in his garden.