"Because it's a memory from the time when color was."
"It was so — oh, I wish language were more precise! The red was so beautiful!"
The Giver nodded. "It is."
"Do you see it all the time?"
"I see all of them. All the colors."
"Will I?"
"Of course. When you receive the memories. You have the capacity to see beyond. You'll gain wisdom, then, along with colors. And lots more."
Jonas wasn't interested, just then, in wisdom. It was the colors that fascinated him. "Why can't everyone see them? Why did colors disappear?"
The Giver shrugged. "Our people made that choice, the choice to go to Sameness. Before my time, before the previous time, back and back and back. We relinquished color when we relinquished sunshine and did away with differences." He thought for a moment. "We gained control of many things. But we had to let go of others."
"We shouldn't have!" Jonas said fiercely.
The Giver looked startled at the certainty of Jonas's reaction. Then he smiled wryly. "You've come very quickly to that conclusion," he said. "It took me many years. Maybe your wisdom will come much more quickly than mine."
He glanced at the wall clock. "Lie back down, now. We have so much to do."
"Giver," Jonas asked as he arranged himself again on the bed, "how did it happen to you when you were becoming The Receiver? You said that the seeing-beyond happened to you, but not the same way."
The hands came to his back. "Another day," The Giver said gently. "I'll tell you another day. Now we must work. And I've thought of a way to help you with the concept of color.
"Close your eyes and be still, now. I'm going to give you a memory of a rainbow."
