…He looked at Araswen, sitting next to him, on the grassy field.  Her eyes reflected the soft flickers of light that hung in the air low about them.  She held her gaze up towards the sky, seemingly lost in a world far from the earth she sat upon, next to him.  “Tell me more of what you know of the stars above,” he warmly urged.

Her eyes scanned the heavens as she began her story, “The corn maidens descended from the skies, showing us how to care for our most precious possession, and we honor them when they appear in the sky during certain cycles of the moon.  Oh look there they are now!” She pointed towards seven blue bright stars netted in the eastern night sky. (2)

“Remmirath, the Netted Stars,” he exclaimed.  “I have always marveled at the beauty of the elenath, but now I look upon them as if seeing them for the first time.  Tell me more of your corn maidens.” (3)

Araswen obliged the luminous elf, “Our stories tell that they came down from the sky to show us how to tame and grow corn.  We celebrate them, when the moon’s passage above reminds us of their deeds, with great ceremonies filled with songs and dance.  Corn is central to our lives, and is a sacred gift from the Creator.”

“Corn is sacred to us too.  The Valar gifted us lembas, waybread, which aided the Calben on the Great Journey to Aman.”

“The Calben,” she interrupted quizzically.

He added, “The Calben, are the elves who answered the Valars’ call to return to the blessed lands, or Aman.  Their journey from Arda to Aman is called the Great Journey.  But the gift of lembas has remained with all the elves, even those who never completed the Great Journey to the Blessed Realm and beheld the light of the two trees of silver and gold.” (4)

“And your grandfather Oropher, was one of these who decided to remain in Doriath.”

“Yes.”

“Mithrandir was gracious enough to provide me with the stories of how this land came to be inhabited by your folk, and many of the hardships moons ago.  You are much like me, son of two cultures, and bearer of much history that is wrought with sorrow.” She sighed wistfully, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“But there is also much joy, despite the sorrow,” he replied gently.  He looked into her eyes that reflected the netted stars above.  “I imagine that you must be one of the maidens of Yavanna, the Ivonwin, whose hands alone possess the knowledge gifted to them by the Valar in the making of lembas.” (5)

The woman spoke shyly, grabbing moist dirt and grass in her hands, “Your words make my cheeks hot, Pamuya <water moon>, for the Ivonwin must be the corn maidens who live in the sky.  I am only a daughter of this earth.”  (6)

“Tis because you cannot see what I do from my eyes Araswen.  Yavanna clad herself in robes of green, I imagine like the one upon you.”

The young woman’s eyes lit up with understanding, “Kementári, queen of Arda, through her, corn was born on this world.   She must be Spiderwoman, for Spiderwoman created all the plants and flowers that dwell in my lands, using the earth and singing the Creation Song.” (7)

“And Taiowa, the Creator, must be Ilúvatar, it must be,” the elf dreamed aloud.  So many of the stories they shared seemed to be born from the same ancient whispers.  He had only begun to understand how vast and glorious the creation of the One was, how much was really unknown of Eä, and that was wonderful to him.  The themes of Eru were grand, and in the music were interwoven such melodies that had remained unheard!  He whispered to the stars above, “Uial <twilight>, the world is new in my eyes.” 

In her heart, the woman prayed for the truth of his words.  Maybe, just maybe, hope had been born anew.

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