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Day came on with a storm. The wind tore at the branches in the vineyard. The clouds billowed and closed in upon the darkness. Every branch felt the tenseness of the hour.

Tovina shouted out her name, “TO THE VINE! TO THE VINE!” all the while chiding herself for the happiness of the evening before. Here blew proof of its folly. It must not be right for a branch to want the things which make it happy.

What a relief it was for the entire vineyard when the Rain began to fall! It came first to Tovina seemingly already aware of the puzzle growing within her. It spoke of the happy things: the morning’s light, the smile of the Husbandman, the song of the Robin, the face of the Violet, the sprouting acorn. It swelled the Stream for other panting deer.

Said Tovina, “The deer went to the water brook unashamed and received that which made him happy. The light makes me happy, but is it never wrong to reach toward the light, never out of place to want the happy things?”

“No, Tovina, you may always
                   keep reaching toward the light.
But do note this caution: First and always, keep seeking TO THE VINE. You see, some branches if not connected are made happy by parasites, decay, and bad odors. Apart from the Vine, your wants are perverted, but connected TO THE VINE, your wants are part of the life of the Vine to make you grow,–not to be pruned away.”