It is a beautiful morning in paradise. The clouds are floating all the way to the horizon, as they do at every dawn, over the orange sky. The lotus fragrance drifts through the heavens on a gentle breeze, weaving through my golden silk hair and over my rosy cheeks. Yet every day it all feels like a phosphorescent dream, my sorrow still lingering.
He’s taking his usual stroll around the celestial garden and over the pond of paradise when our glances meet.
“It is a beautiful morning in paradise.” He says with a divine smile on his face.
I try to smile back and nod as humbly as I can. “It is, my Lord.”
“Your eyes give you away, my sweetest. Is it him that troubles your mind again?”
A sigh escapes my lips. “I wish I could live in oblivion, Father. But this tainted bliss is merely a ceaseless torment.” Tears start rolling down my face one after another, dripping into the pond with a crystalline sound.
“But you are most deserving of it, my dearest, and he is paying his penance.” He lifts my chin and wipes my face. “Why shed raw tears for one like him?”
At hearing His words, my heart feels as if it’s dragging me down — heavier than before — for my beloved.
“Oh God, how could you say such things? Do you not remember the kindness with which he spared me? If that is not love, then I don’t know what love is…”
After seeing the grief and agony that pained me so deeply, God took pity on me and looked to see for Himself.
He gazed through the crystal-clear water, through the beautiful flowers and leaves, and saw all the way to the bottom of Hell… we all saw.
At first, it seemed like the depths of the pond, if you let yourself be mesmerized by the ethereal grace of this world. But if you looked closely, you could see the many sinners who were trapped there. And I did, I looked close enough, from morning to dusk and dawn again, just to see him.
The screams and cries for help were unbearable, but the thought of not seeing him wounded me even more. Most of the time, he seemed exhausted by the relentless torture, but on some days he looked desperate for salvation and redemption. He shook with fear and cried in agony, and it was all just intolerable.
So, as the days went by, he suffered and cried out, and I cried with him… I cried for him, as if my tears could take all his sorrows and sighs away. I sobbed, and I never forgot.
***
Kandata was a handsome man. He had hazel eyes that shone like the sun rising over paradise and a heavenly smile, cornered by two charming dimples. His brown hair was wild as the burning breeze of the day, and his body was built as if to awaken dark desire. A rough scar ran down one side of his cheek, and he was very cunning. Only that’s how I saw him…
For everyone else who crossed his path, he was nothing more than the sum of his sins — if they even lived to tell. Kandata was an infamous villain who left behind only misery and countless deeds that brought him no true gain.
Kandata was a criminal steeped in sin — a thief, a cold-blooded murderer of lots of people who have wronged him and others who have not, an arsonist who cared not whose home he burned or who might perish within. However, wicked though he was, he performed one good deed in his life of evil.
One night, he was walking through the thick woods. The night was still, and the silence was deafening in the absence of wind that only now and then caressed the trees.
I happened to walk the same woods that very night.
Only, I used to be a little spider - and even in that form, he showed me his true self and his gentleness.
I used to live in fear because everyone seemed to fear me as well. I didn’t hate them for it, but they didn’t have to try to destroy me for it. I always felt so frail and powerless, as if my life were meaningless and could end at any moment. But at night, I thought I could finally breathe and be in my solitude — until I saw it. A foot about to crush me to death.
I thought my time was up, but then I felt the light of night upon me again. I looked up and saw him retreating his foot.
“No, I must not. Even though it looks so tiny and weak, it still has a life of its own. And to kill it without cause would be cruel… even for me.” Kandata said with a compassionate tone.
I couldn’t believe it — somebody actually thinking about the importance of my insignificant life. In shock, I remained there, caught in the moment, frozen in pure disbelief as he reached for me. He held me in his strong hands, and as he lifted me higher in his warm palms, I got to see the look in his eyes and it still echoes in mine. It seemed as if he had stolen all the stars from the night sky and trapped them carefully beneath his gaze, and it was oh-so lovely.
He placed me in a safe spot, then continued his walk. I had never met anyone like him — someone so kind and gentle and thoughtful. So I looked for him, and I prayed to God that if I couldn’t find him in this lifetime, I begged to find him in heaven and to thank him and adore him.
But at that time, I did not know his sins or his crimes. I only knew his soul and his warm heart, so I stood by my prayers and asked God for help — as desperately as the sinners in Hell begged for mercy.
And today, He looked upon Kandata and remembered his kindness as He watched him suffer through the pond.
“My child, you are right to stand by this man, for there is goodwill in his heart,” proclaimed the King of Kings.
My heart was overcome with joy as I fell to my knees to thank God for giving Kandata a chance. He softly patted my head, then slowly lifted me up.
“Look through the lotus pond, and when you find your beloved, let down a thread from your golden hair. I shall bless it with My grace and divine power, that it may help him find his way back to you.”
And I did as the Lord commanded, already used to seeking Kandata in the depths of Hell.
Some sinners had to bear worse punishments than others, depending on their crimes, and for him — who had committed them all — the punishment was in the lowest depths of Hell: the Lake of Blood. There, the poor souls were tormented, endlessly swimming in the boiling river that had turned red with their blood. All they could do was endure, and cry, and beg for a more merciful damnation, such as walking the Mountain of Needles. But no salvation or hope awaited them. Those who tried to pull themselves out of the fiery lake were shot with arrows and thrown back in, to struggle and choke again in the sinful, thick blood.
Without hesitation, I began to let down one of my threads — now blessed by God — long enough to reach Hell and strong enough to repay Kandata’s act of kindness toward me, to save him as he once saved me.
He was surrounded by countless sinners, their skin melting in the boiling blood, only to regenerate again and again so that their suffering would never end. I had watched it many times before, but now it pained me even more — seeing how he kept hurting, too exhausted even to weep. Even when he looked like nothing but a corpse, I still managed to always find him with my gaze. He had the same gentle eyes I remembered, but the light that once gave me hope was gone — extinguished by his endless persecution.
“My poor Kandata…” I wept for him. “But today is the day I will finally free you from this cage of sins. I will mend you with my kindness and love until you feel no more pain or sorrow.”