"And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it became pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make her wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat..."
"... and I, the Lord God, said:...cursed shall be the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life. Thorns also, and thistles shall it bring forth to thee....By the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, until thou shalt return unto the ground - for thou shalt surely die..."
Opening scene: A haggard little garden in the foreground. The sun rises on the Euphrates in the background. An old woman stands up with weeds in her hands and wipes blood from her fingers on a dingy apron. An old man takes the weeds from her hands and kisses her on the cheek.
Act I: Later that night at the dinner table.
Eve: My wrists done swelled up agin. Don't know if I'll be fit to clear 'dat garden b'fore Sundee.
Adam: You will. Last week it was yo knees. This week it's the wrists. You'll git it done. With time to spare, I reckon.
Eve: Sometimes I wonder if you're just fakin' belief in me just so I help you wit yo chores when I'm done wit mine.
Adam: Sometimes I wonder if your just fakin' yo pains so that you don't hafta. Ain't no way you could clear a whole gard'n by yoself if you wuz really in all 'dat pain. Only a goddess could do dat. Or an angel.
Eve: (blushing) Boy, I swear. Sometimes I don't know if yo extra good to me, o extra bad.
Adam: Extra good, I reckon.
(A baby cries from off stage)
Act II: Several years later. 4 children are running around the house. The house is much larger and more comfortable now. Outside the window lie rows and rows of perfect crops. Eve sits in a rocking chair sewing a patch on some small pants. Adam enters stage left with a broken board in his hand.
Adam: Guess what 'dis is?
Eve: Oh no. Don't tell me Cain was out hittin his 'lil brother agin wit 'dat ol' stick.
Adam: Guess agin. This time I wuz da one doing the beatin'. 'Dat Cain of yours done told me off fer feedin' the cows by hand. He says I'm wastin' ma time doin it 'dat way. Says I can just throw some hay on the ground 'n da cows end up findin' it anyways.
Eve: Ya?
Adam: Ya. An he says he's thought up all sorts a ways to make it so he don't gotta work so hard. He says life should be a piece a cake. So I tells him how ev'ry time he feeds the cows, I gotta tend 'em back to health for weeks cuz a all da rocks they eatin' with da hay. He just looks at me an says, "That's yo problem. Not mine." I ask 'im if he ever wants ta be great some dee. Ya know what he says t' me? He says, "Great sounds like alotta work. Let Abel do da great stuff if you so set on havin' big shot kids. I'll be workin' three days a week an' mindin' ma own bizness."
Eve: So ya got 'im good wit 'dat stick, uh?
Adam: You bes believin' I did.
Act III: Adam-Ondi-Ahman. A great green field is filled with sons and daughters of Adam and Eve.
Adam: (Finishing his speech) 'Dis I seal upon ev'ry one a you, with all my love. You my children, an' I will always be yo grateful dad.
(Adam sits down and Eve begins to speak seated in her rocking chair on the grass hill.)
Eve: Oh my. (Pause) Oh my oh my. If all you ain't a sight. Y'all know I can't stand, but seein' y'all like dis makes it hard ta even speak. A mother's heart is a life all its own. If you'z ever held a baby, y'all know 'dis. It beats diff'rent 'cuz it's heavy wit love. Children, inside a me is a great red pomegranate. I got no doubt it looks all weather'd 'n worn 'n ugly on da outside. It's gotta hard coverin' 'cuz dere's so much rain 'n so much angr'y wind always blowin' at it. An' it's worked 'n worked 'n worked till there ain't nothin' pretty 'bout it. But inside...oh mercy. Inside is ev'ry single one a y'alls. Ev'ry last one. You each a seed in my heart. A sweet bless'ed seed all full 'a life 'n promise. An' each one a yo seeds is wrapped in a wet blanket a tears. That's how I keep'd y'all safe. I work'd. An' I cried. An' dere ain't no otha way to love a seed mo' than 'dat. Yo daddy done bless'd y'all real good. I can't say mo than 'dat. He is da best daddy you ever gonna know. I promise ya 'dat. We both made some real hard choices 'fore y'alls was born. But I tell ya this... ev'ry single one a ya alone woulda been worth it. Ain't no work dat ain't pleasure when it's done for love.
Act IV: Modern day. Everything is clean and ritzy. Every amenity you could imagine. There are throngs of children. Me. You. Some do great things because they are brave, hard things precisely because they are hard. Others shrink with fear.
Girl: (In prayer) Mother Eve, I was not called to be great. This boy that wants me to marry him...I mean he's great and all...but that's just it...he's so set on being great. He wants to change the world. I admire him for it and all, but that's just not me.
Mother Eve: Why ain't 'dat you?
Girl: I don't know. That's not what I want. I just want to have my own little life and take care of my own little family. There's too much out there anyway. I can't change any of it. I think Heavenly Father just wants me to be small.
Mother Eve: Ya know, 'dat was a lie started a long long time ago by someone I sure did love. He hid his God-given goodness from da Lord and called it 'umility. 'Cept der weren't no 'umility 'bout it. He jus wanted to do is comf'table thing and have da Lord accept it as his best. He gave a bit here 'n dere but he wasted most 'a what da good Lord gave 'im cuz he was scared. Or lazy. Or some'n. He had a comf'table life 'cuz a all da work his parents done did. But he never did da work hizself. 'Dat ain't 'umility. Dat's jus takin' an never giv'n back.
Girl: I'm not like that. I JUST WASN'T CALLED TO BE GREAT.
Mother Eve: Then you wuz not called to be one a my children.
Girl: But we're all your children.
Mother Eve: Then you wuz called. (Pauses while she gazes out over the landscape. Finally she turns her head with decision and repeats while nodding assuredly) Then you wuz called.
Girl: (...)
Closing scene: A haggard little garden in the foreground. The sun sets on the Euphrates in the background. A young woman is bent over, struggling to pull the last weed out of a long furrow. A young man stands next to her, wiping his brow with a white handkerchief. She stands up with the weed in her hand, takes a red handkerchief out of her back pocket, and wipes a smudge off the young man's cheek. She gazes at him for just a moment. And smiles.
