I have started reading Helen Keller's autobiographical The Story of My Life, and was struck by this short passage:
"My father was most loving...His hospitality was great, almost to a fault, and he seldom came home without bringing a guest. His special pride was the big garden where, it was said, he raised the finest watermelons and strawberries in the country; and to me he brought the first ripe grapes and the choicest berries. I remember his caressing touch as he led me from tree to tree, from vine to vine, and his eager delight in whatever pleased me."
I wonder at how like Helen I really am. Blind, deaf, and dumb in the most profoundly important sense, and completely dependent on being led by a father; but thankfully he is good, and kind, and delights in sharing that which he has cultivated in the garden of pleasures for our enjoyment. To run from him in pursuit of better joys would be disastrous, and would certainly bring confusion, disorientation, and personal injury.
In a way, the parallels are astounding; it was not until she learned the meaning of the word "water" that Helen began to understand the world of articulate thought, and gained a sense of inner sight. In the end it's Water that is the key to satisfying all of our needs.