Creation Story: Rain


Creation Story: Rain

When the world began, there was no rain.

The gods made a sun to light the new world, and the gods smiled. They created animals to run and jump over the firm ground, and the gods smiled. They created humans to worship the gods, and the gods smiled. However, the humans soon grew hungry. They ate the animals, but there were only so many animals. The gods scattered seeds, but they would not grow without rain. The gods frowned. They could not sit by and watch as their creations suffered.

Now, among these people, there was a girl named Raina. She was the best weaver in the whole world. Her thread was as fine as spider silk, and she made it just as quickly as the spider itself. As she was spinning thread, she loved to watch the people outside. She laughed at the children and their games. She smiled at the boy who helped an old woman across the street. And she blushed when he smiled back. The boy who smiled back returned the next day, and the next. He came inside and they talked while she spun. They talked about the weather, their childhoods, the meaning of life. And she fell in love.

As Raina was dreaming of her love, the gods debated about impending doom.

“If we want to keep our people alive, we have to make those seeds grow. That much is clear,” one god summarized.

“Yes, but the seeds won’t grow on just sunlight. They need something more. Something with which to craft their leaves, to grow their roots.”

The goddess of weaving looked up. “I have woven you the fabric of the universe. Every day I spin the life force of the gods into sunbeams to light the world below. But I cannot do more without help,” she pleaded. “Maybe one of the people below can help me.”

The gods searched high and low until they found Raina, the best weaver in the whole world. The messenger of the gods appeared before her and explained their predicament. She stared in awe at the mighty god, begging for help.

“Without your help, the people will starve!” he said, finishing his tale.

“I will come,” she said quietly. “But let me say my goodbyes.” Raina knew that once she went into the Heavens, she would never come back.

She kissed her mother and her father. She led her lover into the field behind her house and kissed him one last time, weeping.

“I will always love you,” she sobbed.

“I will always love you,” he replied, holding her hand until the messenger of the gods came and led her into the sky.

Raina entered the heavens, and was blinded by the light. She was led to a chair, and sat down next to the goddess of weaving. Looking down at the world she had come from, she suddenly felt very, very small in the big universe she lived in. The one thing that was familiar was the spinning wheel before her. She looked down at the basket next to the wheel. It was filled with the purest, fluffiest wool she had ever seen.

“Cloud,” the goddess of weaving said, nodding to the basket. “Fresh from the sky- give it a go.”

Raina tried and tried, but the cloud would not spin- it kept breaking.

“You need to use the right part of your soul,” the goddess of weaving instructed. “I’m making sunbeams, so I use the happiest memories I have. You are spinning rain. Let sorrow fill your heart.”

No matter how hard she tried, Raina could not spin the clouds into rain. Then, one day, as she was fumbling with pieces of cloud, her eye drifted to her old village, way down below her on earth. She watched her lover, carefully combing his hair. She watched her lover, walking into a tent full of people. She watched as her lover married another girl! Her heart was filled with sadness, deeper than she had ever felt before. Her frustration at the clouds that would not spin into thread and the boy who broke his promise filled her head. Tears rushed down her face, her mind slowed down, and she could barely breathe. Her foot kept pumping the wheel, out of habit. She pumped without thinking, without trying. Through her misery, she didn’t even see the goddess of weaving jump up.

“You did it!” the goddess exclaimed, watching the thread pool on the ground and drip through holes in the heavens and soak the thirsty earth. The plants began to grow. Raina cried on.

The earth filled with water, and the excess ran down the hills. Raina cried on.
The water pooled into oceans. Raina cried on.
The water began to flood, and the people became frightened, but Raina cried on.
“You must do something!” the people cried to the gods.
“Tell her to stop!” the gods commanded the goddess of weaving.
“Please stop!” the goddess of weaving begged Raina.
Raina looked up, tears in her eyes, asking, “How can I stop my tears when my heart is full of sorrow?”
The goddess smiled gently and pointed down below. “See those children, playing games, even in times of difficulty? See that boy, helping an old woman get to safety? See how your lover smiles at his new wife? See their happiness, and be happy.”

Raina looked, and her tears slowed.
Now, she knows just what the goddess meant when she said to use the right part of her soul. Life is made up of good things and bad things, all at once, so that you can choose to cry or you can choose to smile. When the land is dry, she fills her head with the pain of the world. When the land has satisfied its thirst, she fills her soul with all the happiness of the people down below. It only rains when it must, and the plants grow strong and tall. The plants feed the world, and we live on.

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