Chapter 1: Memories of Garden of Eden

Adam’s Story by the Fire

Under the evening sky, a small fire flickered, its light dancing upon Adam’s face—weathered, yet filled with a quiet strength.

His children sat close, their eyes reflecting the glow of the flames. Young Abel leaned forward, captivated, while Cain listened, arms crossed.

"It was a place beyond imagination," Adam spoke, his voice tinged with longing. "There was no sorrow, no pain. The trees bore fruit in abundance, the rivers were crystal clear, and God walked among us. We were never alone."

Abel’s eyes widened. "Did God really walk with you?"

Adam’s breath caught for a moment. His gaze, weary and distant, lifted toward the night sky.

"Yes," he said softly. "We walked with Him in the cool of the evening. His voice was like rushing waters, yet as gentle as the breeze. We knew no fear—only His presence."

Abel’s eyes widened. "What was He like?"

A small, sad smile crossed Adam’s face.

"He was… everything. Light and life. And we were never alone."

Cain, older and more skeptical, frowned. "If it was so perfect, why are we here?"

Adam’s expression hardened. His voice grew quiet.

"Because we disobeyed God."

The fire crackled, filling the silence.

"God placed two trees in the garden," Adam continued. "One was the Tree of Life, the other the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. He warned us not to eat from the second tree, for on that day, we would surely die. But…"

Adam’s hands clenched over his knees.

"The serpent came. It whispered to your mother, ‘Did God really say…?’ And we listened."

Abel leaned forward. "And then?"

Adam’s voice was heavy.

"We thought we could be like God. We thought we could take wisdom for ourselves. But when we ate… we felt shame. For the first time, we were afraid of His voice."

Cain’s gaze flickered.

"What did He do?"

Adam exhaled slowly.

"He asked me, ‘Adam, where are you?’ And I hid. But He already knew. His judgment was just: the ground would no longer yield freely, and we would toil all our lives. Then, He covered our shame with a garment of skin… and cast us out of the Garden."

A Promise of Redemption

The night wind was cold, rustling through the dry grass of the wilderness. The flickering fire cast long shadows on the faces of Adam's children, who sat in quiet anticipation. Abel, the younger of the two, pulled his woolen cloak tighter around his shoulders and looked up at his father.

"Will we ever go back to the Garden of Eden?" he asked softly.

Adam, sitting beside the fire, turned his gaze toward the darkened sky. His eyes, though weary, held something unshakable conviction.

"Yes," he said with certainty. "God has given us a promise, even in His curse upon the serpent."

He turned toward his children, his voice steady.

"He said, 'The seed of the woman shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.'"

Abel leaned forward, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"What does that mean?"

Adam’s lips pressed together in contemplation. He did not have all the answers, but he believed in God’s words. He had seen the cost of sin, and he had also seen God’s mercy.

"It means that one day, a man will come who will defeat the serpent—the deceiver. He will lead us back to God."

Abel’s heart swelled with hope.

"Who is that man?"

Adam was silent for a long moment. He did not know. None of them did. But he placed his hand on Abel’s shoulder and spoke with unwavering faith.

" We must wait," he said at last. "We must trust. God will redeem us.”

The fire crackled, sending embers into the night sky. Abel gazed into the flames, his heart stirred by something deep and unseen. Cain, sitting opposite them, remained silent, staring into the fire, his expression unreadable.

Above them, the stars shone down, witnesses to a promise yet to be fulfilled.