Paradise deferred by Eileen Padmore

My name is Henrietta and I am a reptile.  Long ago, one of my ancestors was held responsible for that great catastrophe known to humans as 'The Fall'.  But it was nothing to do with me.  Although afflicted by the curse (on thy belly shalt thou go all the days of thy life) the difference is that I am a tortoise with built in decking and a roof over my head.  Vastly superior.




My foolish owners acquired me when I was a few months old, small enough to fit into the human hand.  They called me Henry, not knowing I was a girl.  Later, when they realised their mistake, they renamed me.


In the early days I was kept warm, dry and safe in a glass box with shiny, slippery surfaces.  Food rations were generous and everything was kept clean.  On difficult days I was taken out and washed.  Then shy, I retreated far inside my shell if anyone came near.

Now I am a teenager with more freedom.  Last summer I lived out in the garden for months, left to myself to forage and wander all over.  I am content.  God created me to be in the here and now. Not like my owners who are slaves to some time measuring device.  They dash around, either in a past that has gone forever, or in a future that may never happen – evidence of 'The Great Fall'.

Me ..... I know how to live.  At night I find a sheltered spot, close to the fence under woody, fragrant plants that shelter me from wind and rain.  When the sun comes up I head for the hottest spot to bathe in those potent rays.



Paradise indeed – except for THAT DOG!  At first she was scared of me.  Quite right.  But then she pranced around in circles, yapping, begging me to play!  What a stupid creature!  Best ignored – if only!




In the drought, my keepers put out delicious supplements: crunchy leaves, juicy cucumbers, grapes – even an occasional strawberry.  Would you believe it?  That crazy carnivore stole my lettuce, not because she relished it, but for no better reason than to spoil my good pleasure.  May it choke her!  The evils of jealousy, greed, power.

If only I could have the garden to myself ......

Earlier, when they planted the rockery with jaw champing flowers I launched into the banquet.  Wrong!  I was transported without dignity to do penance among weeds.

Then there was the day the handyman almost fell off his ladder when – fully charged with heat – I took off across the garden in search of some shade.  He thought I was an ornament!  As if!  Me, a garden accessory!  What planet was he on?

That's the problem.  I have to share this bent and broken kingdom with the fallen ones.  Paradise so near – but not yet.

They say God has a rescue plan .....



Eileen Padmore has retired from a life spent in health care and academia, having worked in Sierra Leone, Zambia, Eire and Northern Ireland (in the troubles) as well as inner city Birmingham and Leeds.  She has had articles published in Woman Alive, Christian Writer and contributed to the popular ACW Lent book.  Married for several decades to a professional musician, the family includes a feisty springer spaniel and a large African tortoise.