Free A Gift Upon the Shore by M.K. Wren Page A

sustained and healed her.
    A rustling in the green starbursts of sword fern. But it was only the dogs still exploring. Mary pulled in a deep breath of earth-scented air and asked, “Wasn’t it the Druids who worshiped trees?”
    Rachel nodded. “I guess they thought some trees had godlike attributes or were the sites of gods. If you’re going in for divinity, it seems like a good idea, spreading it around that way. I mean, investing plants and animals and natural phenomena with godhood. I think the people who put all their divine eggs in one basket lost something.”
    Mary asked dryly, “What? Other than whole pantheons to keep track of.”
    â€œYes, well, monotheism
does
simplify things. But when people conglomerated their gods into one grand old man in the sky, they lost all respect for natural processes. It’s a very dangerous philosophy, because we are not a special creation. We’re products of the natural world, and if we’re going to survive, we have to live by its rules.” She paused, looked levelly at Mary. “If you’re a good literalist Christian, don’t bother trying your evangelistic wings on me.”
    The dogs had concluded their explorations. Topaz lay down at Rachel’s feet to wait with steadfast patience, while Shadow leapt up on the bench beside Mary and nudged her elbow for attention. Mary met the demand with gentle scratching behind Shadow’s ears.
    â€œRachel, I don’t have any evangelizing urges, and I don’t really qualify as a Christian—literalist or otherwise.”
    â€œHow
do
you qualify yourself?”
    â€œOh, I suppose as an agnostic. That’s my father’s influence.”
    â€œAnd your mother’s influence?”
    Mary winced, remembering her last long, futile phone call to her mother. She had been so painfully anxious, but for all the wrong reasons. “Mother was always a professed Christian, but she wasn’t really serious about it, not until Dad died. That changed her. I think she got deeper into religion after that because . . . well, she
has
to believe that someday she’ll be reunited with Dad. She has to believe he still exists somehow.”
    â€œYes,” Rachel said, the word a sigh. “That’s the real source of religions. Grief. And fear of death. Most people find their mortality so terrifying, the only way they can deal with it is to deny it.”
    Mary asked quietly, “But you’ve accepted your mortality?”
    â€œWell, I can’t see any rational alternative to acceptance.”
    â€œNo immortal soul?”
    â€œNo. Nor heaven or hell or the bureaucratic convolutions of purgatory or nirvana or whatever. They’re all human inventions designed to avoid facing reality. I will not voluntarily blind myself.”
    Mary stared into the tunnel of shadow at the base of the tree and felt a lump of dull pain in her leg. “But reality is hard to look at sometimes.”
    â€œYes. At least, the reality humankind has created for itself. It’s hard to look at and hard to survive. But no living organism is guaranteed an easy life. Or death. And there’s a reality beyond what we’ve created.” She paused, studied Mary for what seemed a long time. “I’m not talking about any version of a god. The idea of a god doesn’t answer any questions for me. I’m talking about what I call the real world. We’re a very small part of it, but we’re capable of comprehending it at least enough to know that it’s magnificent. What else can a human being ask? And yes, you can assume from all this that I’m an atheist.”
    Rachel didn’t seem to expect Mary to be shocked at that revelation, and if she was surprised, it was simply because she realized she’d have been more surprised to find Rachel professing any religion.
    Nor did Rachel seem to expect a response. She leaned down to stroke Topaz’s head. “I