This is a fairy tale that I came across some time ago in a forum while researching the topic of esoteric Christianity. The person who shared it wrote that it was a Manichaean story told to him by Petar Raychev. I have now decided to pass it on. It is very beautiful. Very. Through two powerful symbols—the lotus and the rose—it says so many things…
Enjoy the reading!
“The lotus was a self-satisfied plant species. It let its roots sway comfortably in the water, delighted the eye with its delicate flowers from a distance, and produced remedies that it offered inaccessible to the poor, sick land-dweller who could not swim. The lotus itself greatly admired its color—a color so gentle and pleasant. And its healing nature filled its heart with a clear sense of usefulness. There was only one thing it had to watch out for—not to swallow more mud than necessary, so as not to get dirty. It was important to remain pure.
The lotus even led a successful social life—when it looked around, it saw only brothers and sisters, all lotuses. In the distance, there were indeed some weeds and wild plants. There were also plants with not a bad color, but they could not heal like it. Besides, it could not quite understand why they lived outside the water. They struggled, and yet they did not make enough effort to enter the water. It wanted to help them come into the water with it and kept explaining that they should abandon this solid ground and come into the water. But they seemed not to hear it, which was a little strange and even hurtful. Still, the lotus did not despair—it was good and pure and forgave them everything in advance. It also did not forget that it was healing, and this filled its heart.
But one day a strange thought crept into its mind. It decided to count how many sick people it had healed that day. It itself was surprised by this odd idea, but it tried nonetheless. The result unpleasantly surprised it—it managed to count zero healed sick people and two dead bodies, who had given up the ghost in a fatal attempt to reach it. Then it had to accept the thought that it was, in reality, useful only to itself. This thought would not leave it in peace. It began to think only about those who were outside the water and needed its healing nature but could not reach it. It told its brothers and sisters about this, but they were so occupied with their luminous thoughts that they did not understand it at all.
Then the lotus decided to do something whose outcome was completely unknown. The lotus decided to leave the water and go to those in need, to be for everyone. It left the water and encountered the hard and rough matter of the black earth. Soon after, it felt itself beginning to lose strength and sensed the approach of death. It looked around and saw that the others were immersed with part of themselves in the black earth. And it understood that in order to survive, it too would have to do this.
It began trying to penetrate the earth, but its roots were softened by the water, and it experienced great pain. From the merciless suffering and its immense effort to take root, its delicate leaves and flowers began to wither and soon dried up. The lotus sank into darkness and lived through death. But one day it felt something strange, like a slight movement. It intensified and turned into a powerful impulse for life that began to push it upward. It had to follow it, but this again caused pain. The cold, hard, black earth resisted it. Yet this same earth, with tremendous force, pushed it to grow. This duality confused it endlessly, until at some point it glimpsed the light once more.
It began to grow faster and without obstruction, and this made it happy. But when it looked at itself, it saw only leaves and thorns. They were neither healing nor gentle and pleasant. The lotus experienced strange and even terrifying feelings, unknown to it until then—regret, anger, despair. Soon, however, it understood that it could do nothing more, realized its powerlessness, and accepted it. The lotus lived through humility. And at that very moment, this experience released new forces, and a bud formed. The bud began to open, and a new flower, incomparable in beauty and unseen until then, was born into the world.
The rose was born.
Now it illuminated everything ugly around it with its beauty. It was not healing, but the power of its splendor inspired everyone who looked at it. Its sharp thorns constantly reminded that it had emerged from the black earth—that it had been born from hardship and pain, that it had been born from the will to be for others by descending among them. This instilled courage in all the other plants and awakened their will, so that they might cope on their own with the difficulties of the black earth. Because everyone could touch and feel its beauty up close. Only the lotuses could not. They were occupied with luminous thoughts about their delicate flowers and their healing nature.”
Manichaean story, told by Petar Raychev
