Why Be God When You Can Be A Human:
Being God Is A Very Difficult Job
Years ago, in Smalltown, a young citizen
chose to grow a garden. Sure, others in town also grew gardens, but this garden
would be different.
There wasn't very much room for a garden, and the tall trees and buildings
blocked the light for all but a few minutes each day. But determined and
motivated, the citizen proceeded.
First, a study was made of all the other gardens. Their layout and irrigation
systems were examined, how they were tended and what plants they contained.
Notes were taken and interviews with the gardeners were recorded. Many trips
were taken to the various garden shops and nurseries. When the accumulated
information became more than a person might understand in a single lifetime, the
citizen began to make the garden.
First was the ground. It was tilled. Fertilizers, sand, and loam were mixed in.
All the rocks and stones were removed and placed along the borders. irrigation
would utilize a run-off system. Between the plants small gullies were formed
into which water would flow, providing the roots of the plants easy access.
Choosing the plants was more difficult. The nearly constant shade left few
choices. Many thorny plants would survive, but few flowers. Plants that would
provide an edible harvest would not tolerate the lack of light. The notes and
information collected did mention a few plants that might thrive in the shade,
and although difficult to find, the citizen was able to acquire some of them in
trade. The barter system seemed particularly common, but the citizen had so
little to offer. Eventually an agreed exchange was met and soon the garden was
full of plants.
Each day the citizen would admire the garden and tend to its needs. Supports were
added for the climbing vines, and the weeds were pulled as soon as they
The garden grew slowly. The lack of light and the constant attack by weeds,
bugs, and animals wore on the citizen and the plants. As time passed, the
citizen became less able to do the daily work, and the weeds began to overtake
the plants. The shade grew more intense, and what little light that touched the
garden was captured by the weeds. Insects and animals attacked the plants with
increased fervor as well. What had begun as a dream now was becoming a
nightmare. The many years of toil had only produced a haven for weeds and
Other citizens began to complain about the unsightly garden and its pests and
weeds. Their own gardens began to become home to the weeds and vermin. The town
gathered in protest, and it ruled that this garden could no longer be tended by
the citizen who had worked so hard to create and tend it.
Heartbroken and tired, the citizen was banned from town, and others were given
the task to "fix" the garden.
Many years later, the citizen returned to visit the garden. A nostalgic look, a
last wish, so to speak.
The tiny plot had been covered over with concrete and a small cafe had put
tables and chairs there. On each table was a plant growing in a pot. The trees
and tall buildings that once had shaded the plot were gone. Umbrellas on each
table now provided the shade.
The citizen sat in a chair and watched as the waitress watered the plants with a
cup of water. There were no insects or animals to attack the plants anymore.
The tiny garden had become the center of town, where everyone gathered to share
their wisdom and talk.