Sometimes a story is just a story. And so it is with the tale of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. It's a mythic tale about the absolute necessity of growing up and leaving behind innocence and protection and becoming an adult with the ability to know the difference between good and evil. How wonderful it is to have those brief moments of childhood innocence; how painful it can be to realize that our children are growing up and don't need us as much anymore (Who told you you could eat of the fruit? It wasn't me. Why didn't you listen to me? You don't need me?) How unsettling it can be to realize that we really are on our own and we are accountable for what we say and do. How often we try to deny our accountability and blame others. (It wasn't me who did it; is was her. It wasn't me who did it; it was that serpent.) And so we all inevitably find ourselves living outside the blessed garden in a world where toil and pain is a part of life. But, my oh my, how sweet it is to know and think and love as adults.
It's myth, not history. And it has nothing to do with "original sin."