[Short Story] Why Clouds Are Like Cotton Balls?

The legend of the Clouds - A story about the origin of the cloud. Why Clouds Are Like Cotton Balls?

Image by Peter from Pixabay

On the sun-drenched shores of Gapasan Island, Danilo and Dina, a couple bound by love and a yearning for a child, lived a life rich in contentment but shadowed by a single, aching desire. Each day, their prayers painted the sky with the same fervent wish – a family to complete their world of joy. One morning, as the sun painted the horizon with streaks of gold, Danilo stumbled upon a peculiar sight in their backyard – a plant unlike any they had ever seen. Its form, both delicate and resilient, held a captivating charm. He called Dina, and together they marveled at this unexpected visitor, a silent promise nestled amongst the familiar greens.

Dina, with her heart brimming with maternal warmth, readily took on the responsibility of nurturing the plant. She christened it Cotton, a name that whispered of its soft, downy appearance, and vowed to see it flourish and bear fruit. Days bled into weeks, and Cotton thrived under their watchful eyes. Its vibrant green leaves unfurled like welcoming arms, and sturdy branches reached for the sun, a silent proof to their unwavering care. Then, delicate white flowers, pure as fallen snow, began to adorn its form. With each passing day, the couple's hope bloomed alongside Cotton. Yet, months stretched on, and the flowers remained stubbornly unyielding, clinging to their delicate beauty but never transforming into the fruit they so desperately desired.

Frustration gnawed at Dina's heart, and she pressed to cut Cotton down. However, Danilo, ever the optimist, pleaded with her to hold on a little longer, his faith unwavering in the belief that nature had a plan yet to unfold. The next morning, they awoke to a sight that left them breathless. Cotton, the once flourishing plant, had vanished without a trace. In its place lay a mound of the softest, most luxurious cotton they had ever seen. As they sifted through the fluffy treasure, their fingers brushed against something unexpected – a tiny, perfect baby nestled comfortably within. Tears of joy welled up in their eyes as they cradled this precious gift, a child born not of flesh and blood, but of the magical cotton plant. They named her Cloudia, a name that echoed the ethereal beauty of her arrival.

Cloudia grew with an otherworldly grace, her skin as smooth and white as the cotton that had birthed her. One day, as Danilo bathed Cloudia, a strange phenomenon occurred. The water, upon contact with her skin, transformed into a luxurious lather of cotton, soft and gentle. A gasp escaped Dina's lips as they realized the extraordinary connection Cloudia possessed with the cotton. This revelation sparked an idea in Dina's resourceful mind. They collected the cotton lather, a unique and precious commodity, and took it to the nearby town. The townsfolk were captivated by its luxurious texture and readily offered a hefty price.

This first taste of wealth ignited a spark within Dina, a spark that quickly morphed into a raging inferno of avarice. The comfortable life they had envisioned morphed into a relentless pursuit of grandeur. Mansions and sprawling estates danced in her dreams, and she wouldn't rest until they were hers. Blinded by their newfound greed, Danilo and Dina began to exploit Cloudia's magical gift without a second thought. They repeatedly bathed her, first in the rivers, then in the vast expanse of the sea, each time transforming the water into a bounty of cotton. Their wealth multiplied, but a hollowness began to gnaw at their hearts. The once joyful act of caring for Cloudia became a mechanical process, fueled by their insatiable hunger for more.

One fateful day, as Danilo dipped Cloudia into the sea, a voice boomed from the depths. Cloudia, no longer the helpless infant, had transformed into a magnificent being, her form woven from pure cotton. Her voice, both sorrowful and firm, echoed across the ravaged landscape. She rebuked them for their greed, reminding them of the simple life they once cherished and how their insatiable desires had brought suffering to the entire island. The rivers had run dry, the sea a barren wasteland, and the people were plagued by thirst and hunger.

With a final, heart-wrenching plea for them to learn from their mistakes, Cloudia vanished. The cotton transformed back into water, revealing the devastation their actions had caused. Shame and remorse washed over Danilo and Dina like a tidal wave as they surveyed the barren landscape. The once vibrant island was a proof to their greed, a silent scream against their insatiable desires.

Days turned into weeks, filled with a crushing silence that mirrored the emptiness in their hearts. But then, a miracle occurred. Gentle rain began to fall, nourishing the parched earth. The well overflowed, rivers meandered with renewed life, and the sea sparkled under a clear sky. The island slowly began to heal, each drop of rain a soothing balm on the wounds they had inflicted.

However, a permanent reminder of their folly remained. The cotton that once filled the sky never truly disappeared. It lingered, a shimmering cloud high above the island, a constant witness to their actions. The islanders called it Cloud, a name that whispered of both Cloudia's memory and the couple's transgression. It served as a cautionary tale, a reminder that true happiness resides not in material wealth, but in cherishing the gifts we are given and using them with compassion.

Occasionally, during times of hardship, the Cloud would weep, showering the island with gossamer threads of cotton. These threads, infused with Cloudia's magic, held the power to soothe troubled hearts and bridge divides. For Danilo and Dina, the sight of the Cloud became a bittersweet reminder. It was a constant source of regret yet also a beacon of hope, a promise that even the deepest remorse could pave the way for redemption. They spent the rest of their days working tirelessly to rebuild what they had destroyed, their hearts forever tethered to the memory of the magical cotton plant and the child who taught them the true meaning of contentment.

Written on October 30, 2010