Fragrant Futures
Chapter 6
The days following were filled with wonder and renewed hope. The miraculous sandalwood tree stood tall outside Sarah’s home, its fragrant aroma weaving through the village and capturing the attention of all who passed by. The villagers often stopped to admire its beauty, some even bringing small offerings of flowers or handmade tokens to place at its base, grateful for the touch of magic it had brought into their lives.
Despite the marvel of the sandalwood tree and the joy of Thenga’s appearance in dream, life for Sarah’s family returned to its humble routine. Her parents rose with the sun each morning, tending to their modest farm. They worked tirelessly in the fields, coaxing life from the stubborn soil, planting seeds, and harvesting crops. Their efforts provided just enough to keep food on the table and clothes on their backs, but little more.
One afternoon, as the golden hues of sunset painted the sky, Sarah sat on the front porch, a book resting unopened in her lap. She watched her parents in the distance, their figures silhouetted against the fading light as they finished the day’s work. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the sandalwood tree, carrying its soothing scent.
Her mother approached, wiping her hands on a worn apron. “What are you thinking about, dear?” she asked, noticing the faraway look in Sarah’s eyes.
Sarah sighed softly. “I was just wondering if we’ll ever have enough money to build the library.”
Her mother sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Oh, Sarah,” she began gently, “I know how much that means to you. But right now, we’re just making ends meet. Building a library is a big endeavor, and we don’t have the resources for such a grand project.”
“I understand,” Sarah replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t help but dream about it. I want so much for everyone here to have access to books and knowledge.”
Her mother smiled sadly. “Your heart is in the right place, my love. Perhaps one day things will change.”
That evening, as the family gathered around their simple wooden table for dinner, Sarah decided to broach the subject with her father as well.
“Papa,” she began hesitantly, “do you think farmers can ever earn enough to build something like a library?”
He looked up from his meal, his eyes reflecting both affection and weariness. “Well, Sarah, farming is honest work, but it doesn’t often bring great wealth. We live modestly, and that’s something to be grateful for.”
“But what if we found a way to earn more?” she pressed gently. “Isn’t there something we could do?”
He leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “Our land provides what it can. To make big money, like those who run businesses in the towns, would require more than we have. It’s not impossible, but it’s not something we can easily achieve.”
Seeing the disappointment on her face, he added softly, “But remember, if your dream is selfless and true, sometimes the universe has a way of answering. Hold on to that hope.”
Later that night, Sarah lay awake in bed, the moon casting a silvery glow through her window. The shadows of the tree’s branches danced on her ceiling as she pondered her parents’ words. She understood their practicality, but her heart yearned for a solution.
As sleep finally claimed her, she found herself once again in the luminous dreamscape where she often met Thenga. The field glowed with ethereal light, and the stars above seemed closer than ever, their brilliance reflected in the gentle waves of the grass.
“Thenga?” she called out, her voice echoing softly.
“I am here,” came his familiar reply.
He appeared beside her, his presence radiating warmth and comfort. “You seem troubled,” he observed kindly.
She nodded. “I spoke with my parents about building the library, but they don’t think we can afford it. We’re just farmers, and we barely make enough to get by.”
Thenga considered her words. “Your desire to build a library is noble, Sarah. It’s a gift not just for yourself, but for your entire community.”
“I just don’t know how to make it happen,” she admitted, her eyes reflecting her inner turmoil.
A thoughtful expression crossed Thenga’s face. “Perhaps there is a way,” he suggested. “The sandalwood tree I gifted you—it holds great value. Sandalwood is prized for its fragrance and used in perfumes and oils.”
She looked at him quizzically. “Yes, but what can we do with one tree?”
He smiled gently. “Your father could carefully harvest some of the wood to produce sandalwood oil or perfume. By bottling and selling it in the neighboring towns, you could earn more than you might imagine. This could provide the funds needed for your library project.”
Sarah’s eyes widened with realization. “I hadn’t thought of that! But would it be right to cut the tree?”
“Managed wisely, you can use some of the tree without harming it,” Thenga assured her. “Sandalwood can be sustainably harvested. And perhaps, with a little more magic, the tree might provide even more than expected.”
She felt a surge of hope. “Thank you, Thenga! This could be the answer we’ve been looking for.”
He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Remember, sometimes solutions are right in front of us, waiting to be discovered. Your dedication will make the difference.”
“I’ll talk to my parents about it first thing in the morning,” she promised.
Thenga nodded. “I believe in you, Sarah. Keep following your heart.”
As the dream began to fade, she called out, “Will I see you again?”
He smiled mysteriously. “I’m never far away.”