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"Oh, my tiny twig, I love you. You are yet too small to understand all that I have done for you, but I planted this noble vineyard with you in mind. I fenced it. I built a tower in the midst of it, and planted here my choicest Vine.
"And you? In my book all your members were written when as yet there were none of them. Now this day I christen you Tovina. TO THE VINE, my tiny Tovina, TO THE VINE! Ever remember that."
Thus spoke the Husbandman of the vineyard.
Tovina, the tiniest twig, found beside her two large and sturdy branches. The nearer one, the one that seemed to lean a bit on the other, said in a tone very like that of the Husbandman, "My child, I love you. Our Husbandman has put us here beside you because he is silently planning for you in love."
The prowlers came to spoil the tiny twigs, but they could not reach Tovina. The frost settled to nip her tiny buds, but it could not pass the two large and sturdy branches. The wind blew but touched not the tiny Tovina.
As the howling wind whipped the large and sturdy branches, Tovina saw then strain; she heard them creak. She watched their connection, and there under her gaze in the midst of the storm, that connection grew broader, sturdier. Sure enough, between the creaks and groans, they had a message for her, "TO THE VINE, Tovina, TO THE VINE!"
"A Song of My Well-Beloved Touching His Vineyard" (Isaiah 5:1). To the Vine, Tovina: A Story that Is an Allegory of One Young Adult's Spiritual and Faith Crises
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