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Once upon a time in the heart of the Eastern Kingdom lay a beautiful garden. And there in the cool of the evening the master of the garden would walk.
Of all who lived of the garden, the most beautiful and beloved was a gracious and noble Bamboo. Often when Wind came to revel in the garden, Bamboo would throw aside his dignity. He would dance and sway merrily, tossing and leaping and bowing in joyous abandon.
Year after year, Bamboo grew ever more beautiful and gracious. He was conscious of his master's love and watchful delight, yet he was modest and in all things gentle.
One day the master drew near to Bamboo with a look of curious expectancy. And Bamboo, in a passion of love, bowed his great head to the ground in joyful greeting.
The master spoke: "Bamboo, I would use you." Bamboo flung his head to the sky in utter delight. The day of days had come, the day in which he would find his completion and destiny! His voice came low: "Master, I am ready, use me as you want." "Bamboo", the master's voice was grave, "I must take you and cut you down."
A trembling of great horror shook Bamboo. "Cut …me…down? Me whom you, master, have made the most beautiful in your whole garden? Cut me down? Ah, not that, not that. Use me for your joy, oh master, but do not cut me down." "Beloved Bamboo," the master's voice grew graver yet. "If I do not cut you down, I cannot use you."
The garden grew still. Wind held her breath.
Bamboo slowly bent low his proud and glorious head. There came a whisper: "Master, if you cannot use me unless you cut me down, then do your will and cut." "Bamboo, beloved Bamboo, I must cut your leaves and branches from you also." "Master, master, spare me. Cut me down and lay my beauty in the dust, but why take from me my leaves and branches also?" "Bamboo alas! If I do not cut them away, I cannot use you."
The sun hid her face. A listening butterfly fluttered fearfully away.
Bamboo shivered in terrible expectancy, whispering low.
"Master, cut away." "Bamboo, Bamboo, I must divide you in two and cut out your heart, for if I do not cut so, I cannot use you." "Master, master, then cut and divide."
So the master of the garden took Bamboo and cut him down and hacked off his branches and stripped off his leaves and divided him in two and cut out his heart, then lifting him gently, carried him to where there was a spring of fresh, sparkling water in the midst of the master's dry fields. Then, putting down one end of broken Bamboo into the spring and the other end into the water channel in his field, the master tenderly laid down his beloved Bamboo.
The spring sang a welcome. The clear sparkling water raced joyously down the channel of Bamboo's torn body into the waiting fields. Then the rice was planted and the days went by. The shoots grew. The harvest came!
On that day Bamboo, once so glorious in his stately beauty, was yet more glorious in his brokenness and humility. For in his beauty he was life abundant. But in his brokenness he became a channel of abundant life to his master's world.
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