Eden is delightful. That sentence itself is redundant, since “eden” literally means “delight”. But it is. A delight, I mean. Glorious trees surround my home. Flowers shining like gold, sapphire, ruby — every colour imaginable — they fill its every nook and crany. Fruits — succulent, rich, and mouthwatering — they grow everywhere and I can feast on them all, save for a certain kind of fruit growing from this one certain tree.
There are plenty of things to do here. Just today, my Lord brought the animals to me, asking me to name them one by one. It’s great fun. I love speaking names out. I love declaring. I love discovering a creature’s essence and I love calling it forth to life.
It’s strange though. As I did my assignment, I noticed this very peculiar thing. All those animals — there was always two of each kind.
Why did they come in twos? I’m not complaining. Yet why — why is it that when it comes to me, there seems to be nothing — nobody else the same as me?
I close my eyes. Sleep comes. The last thing I see is the face of my Lord — my Father — smiling down at me.
His eyes are soft. Yet as I look on, I sense a burning fire in them — red hot, a mixture of passion and devotion.
I call Him “Father”. He was the first Being I have ever had the privilege to see. He was the One who led me around the garden so that I could look upon the animals, munch upon the fruits, and drink upon the beauty of the blossoms and the trees.
I love everything about Him. Yet, though I know I am complete, I feel like something — a part of me — is missing. Or perhaps I am the missing part of something?
Suddenly, I see him. Suddenly, he sees me.
I have just woken up. And what is in my view? Lo and behold, a creature of great beauty!
I have never seen anything like her. She’s — is there even a word fit to describe the being before me?
She looks at me tentatively, yes, even bashfully. What should I say? I must say something to break this silence. I must — Oh, what should I say, what should I say?
I feel for my heart and then I notice an odd sensation just below my chest. I touch my rib cage, feeling for the bones underneath my skin. Something is different.
Suddenly, I know what I must do. Suddenly, I know what I must say to the maiden before me.
“At last!” He says. “This one is bone from my bone and flesh from my flesh! She will be called ‘woman’ because she was taken from ‘man.'”
I blush. I look around for my Father and I see Him smiling at me. “Go on,” His eyes seem to say.
I take a step forward. The man reaches out, gently taking both of my hands.
“My name is Adam. You… you shall be called ‘Eve’. You shall become a mother of all who live.”
Father’s soft yet passionate glance seems to be reflected in the man’s eyes. I gaze into them, feeling a shy smile creeping to my lips.
“Hello, Adam,” I breath. “Yes I am Eve. I shall be called your Eve, a mother to all who live.”
We walk, hand in hand. We turn our heads to our Father. The Father grins.
He is delighting in Adam and me.
Based on Genesis 2