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The Creation of a Soul

A faceless puppet hangs by its strings on a hook in the wall. Nude and unpainted, it's starting to collect dust. There it hangs with no one to dust it off; nobody is there to clothe it, illuminate it, or give it a face. No puppetmeister to pull its threads and give it purpose--to animate it. Suddenly, the puppet felt itself being lifted by its strings. Then, it was placed upon a table under an oculus in the high ceiling, the only source of light in the room.

While on its back, the puppet sensed something running along its body. Whatever it was would stop in one area and move to the next. The object moved to its face, and the marionette felt fear fill up its hollow form. Suddenly, there was a new sensation: the puppet could see.

With newly painted eyes, the puppet scans his surroundings. Despite the dim lighting and being unable to move its head, it can see that its entire body was painted a shiny, clean white. Sight wasn't the only gift the marionette received; it also had newly painted ears. With them, it heard a creaking noise and someone humming.

The puppet strained its eyes to see the cause of the noises. A creaking, rocking chair caught the corner of its vision; and, on it, someone appeared to be working with something in his or her hands while softly humming a tune. Before the marionette could gather anything more, the figure stood up and walked over to it. The puppet felt its body lifted off of the table; then, the doll was dressed in a pure white gown.

As the unknown artisan buttoned the effigy's garments, all the puppet could see was a silhouette of the being laboring over its creation. At the same time, the marionette could hear the haunting words of the meister's song:

We live just before the moment we're born,

and, in that moment, we learn to live.

We are given life when before we are born,

but we have to learn what it means to give.

Between our birth and death,

we travel on life's many roads,

and, with this journey's every breath,

the souls learn to carry their loads.

Whenever we reach that path's end,

we realize what we possess.

The seeds we sew and tend

and hope that our souls know progress.

The pure white puppet, in its pure white gown, felt itself begin to stir on the inside of its hollow frame. The doll was placed on its feet by the artisan, and, somehow, it remained standing after it was let go. Realizing its erect position, the puppet looked down in astonishment. Then, it began to move on its own: jumping, twirling, stretching its limbs. The newly animated object looked up to the meister and wanted to state its gratitude. However, it realized it had no mouth, with which to talk or even smile with.

The unknown figure reached out a sandy brown paw and gently nuzzled the marionette. The effigy nuzzled the paw of the creator. The puppet heard something snap behind it. Turning around, it saw that the meister had slashed away its strings with a spare paw.

"You won't be needing those anymore, little one." The worker's voice was sweet and gentle as it stepped out into the light around the table. The brown anthro sphinx smiled down upon its creation. With her black wings expanded and her long, flowing, blazing, red hair elegantly covering her breasts; the sphinx bends down until her alabaster human face was level with the marionette's eyes. In a calming, melodic voice, the mythological hybrid began to speak to the living puppet.

"I am the being who makes souls, and I have just finished creating you, little one. Pure and white, you are now ready to descend down to the earth and start your journey through life." She extended her paw once again to lovingly caress the incarnated effigy. Before you go, I want to tell you something, new soul.

"First of all, I am known by many different names by many different souls: Truth, Love, Spirit, Hope, Faith, God; and the list goes on. Although you won't remember me, know that I am always within you, no matter what name you choose to give me. You may have to search for me, and it may be difficult for you to do so; but, no matter where you are or what you are doing, know that I will always be there for you to steel your resolve for your corporeal voyage."

Using both paws she lifted the puppet up to her chest and cradled it snuggly to her body.

"And also," she continued, causing the marionette to lift its gaze up to her seemingly infinite blue eyes, "know that you are who you are. I simply made your outside. What you do with your white body is completely up to you. You will dirty yourself with mistakes; that is unavoidable. However, you can always wash away that dingy coating, and try again to repaint yourself with the color of your own positivity and success. Dirtying, cleansing, and redoing; these are all part of your journey, whatever you make it to be."

The sphinx leaned in to tenderly kiss the little effigy on its forehead, eliciting a warm, calm aura from the doll.

"One last thing, little one. Whatever you are I will be there for you. Regardless of the color of your fur, feathers, scales, or exoskeleton; no matter if you're straight, gay, bisexual, asexual, transgendered, or some mix of these; culture, nationality, and socio-economic status, do not matter. You are who you are, and I love you always."

The marionette, filled with newfound feelings love, hope, and warmth, began to glow. The puppet began to levitate into the air as it grew brighter and brighter. Then in a flash the doll became intangible and flew out the oculus at the speed of light.

The artisan waved goodbye to her beloved soul and said a little prayer for its success on its life's journey. Then she went back to the rack and picked up her next empty puppet.