terrorists had no idea of Isaiah 9:10, no idea of the Harbingers, no idea of the sycamore tree growing at the corner of Ground Zero, and no idea that their attack would cause it to fall or that its fall was connected to an ancient prophecy. They had no idea…but still it happened.”
“And what happened after it fell?” I asked.
“It became the focal point of interest and attention. It was transformed into a symbol.”
“Just as with the Harbingers before it.”
“The Harbingers are, among other things, symbols. So the Sycamore became a symbol of 9/11. It was labeled the Sycamore of Ground Zero . Articles were written about it. It was placed on public display. Crowds gathered around to see it. But they had no idea of the message it carried or how far-reaching that message was. Nor did they take note of the small object entwined in its roots.”
“Which was…”
“A brick,” he replied. “ The bricks have fallen…and the sycamores have been cut down .”
“The whole thing is…I can’t even put it into words…everything replaying itself…everything following the details of an ancient prophecy…now even inanimate objects…the Tower…the Stone…the Tree…and with nobody orchestrating it.”
“With nobody orchestrating it because it had to happen. The Harbingers manifested because they had to manifest…as signs…as prophetic messages.”
“And what message does the sign of the Sycamore hold for America?” I asked.
“It’s a sign of a fall…of a cutting down…an uprooting…an end. When it appeared in ancient Israel, it prophesied the nation’s downfall and the end of its kingdom.”
“And now it reappears for America. So does that mean that there has to be an…”
“It’s a warning,” said the prophet. “It all depends if the warning is heeded.”
“And if it’s not heeded…?”
“If a tree falls to the ground and no one hears it…does it make a sound?”
“Does it?” I asked.
“In the case of the Sycamore, it makes two.”
“Two?”
“For those who hear it, the sound of warning and the call to redemption.”
“And for those who don’t?”
“The sound of judgment.”
We were silent for a time. Then he reached into his coat pocket and handed me the next seal. I examined it without saying anything, placed it in my pocket, then resumed rowing to bring the boat back in to the dock. “And what clue do you have for me concerning the Seventh Harbinger?” I asked as we neared the dock.
“It’s as clear as the one before it,” he replied, “and closely joined.”
“Closely joined to the Sycamore.”
“Yes.”
“It’s another image of a tree…but different.”
“Correct.”
“There are two trees in the prophecy,” I said. “So the Seventh Harbinger has to be the second tree.”
“You see, Nouriel, it’s not so hard. You’ve already figured out all that and without even spending weeks searching for the answer. And we haven’t even reached the dock.”
“Then why do we need weeks or months before the next meeting?”
“For you to work on it.”
“Why don’t we just keep going…here? It’s a place of trees. The setting works.”
He thought for a moment, then responded. “Why not then?”
“Then we’ll do it here?”
“Why not?” he repeated.
I never expected him to agree to the suggestion. It threw me. It threw me enough to question him. “So a prophet can change the plan…the appointed plan?”
“Who said the plan was changed?”
“But I was the one who came up with the idea.”
“And how do you know that your coming up with the idea to change the plan wasn’t the appointed plan in the first place?”
“If it was a change of plan…then it wasn’t appointed.”
“And if it was appointed,” he replied, “then it wasn’t a change of plan.”
“So you’re saying you planned to continue here all along…before I mentioned it?”
“Whether I planned it or whether it happened because it was planned without my
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