The Question part four

My apologies for not posting this yesterday. Here's part three, in case you need a refresher.

Part Four

Rushing,

The crowds of townsfolk

Bustle around me.

Housewives

Doing their morning shopping.

Peddlers

Hawking their wares.

Young women

Giggling and gossiping.

All these

And more

Fill the crowded marketplace.

I slip,

Unnoticed,

Between shoppers and stalls.

I listen to every word they say.

One name

Is on everyone’s lips,

The name of the one

Who I have followed.

“The Prince!”

They say,

“The one who calls Himself

Son of the Great King!”

Matronly women

Talk knowingly with their friends

About Him.

“I heard

He raised a girl from the dead,”

Says one.

“My cousin told me

That He gave sight to a girl blind from birth!”

Exclaims another.

“My husband says

That He knows more about the Great King than anyone,

Even the Elders!”

Another whispers.

Speculations fly
About who He is.

“He is the one we have heard of,

The one who says a Deliverer is coming!”

“He is one of the heroes of old,

Come back to lead us!”

“He is a prophet,

Sent with a message from the Great King!”

Everyone seems to have an opinion

But I do not think

That anyone truly knows for sure.

I leave the city,

Running out the gates

And back to the place

Where our group stopped

While I went on ahead

To find out what the townspeople say

About our leader.

I approach Him respectfully.

He turns to me.

“You have returned.

What have you learned?”

I tell Him what I heard.

“Some say

You are the One who proclaims a Deliverer is coming.

Others say

You are a hero of old

Or a prophet.”

He nods slowly.

“And you, Teresa,

Who do you say I am?”
I hesitate.

I have pondered the question

Many times

Despite having followed Him

This long.

Who is He?

Who am I following?

I feel as if every eye in the group

Is on me.

Who is He?

Who am I following?

I look up,

Into His eyes,

And I realize

I knew all along

But I would not admit it.

“You are,”

I begin.

“You are

The Prince of Peace,

Son of the Great King.”

The Prince of Peace smiles.

The Question Part Three

Hello, everyone! I'm back, with part three of The Question. Here's part two in case you haven't read it yet. Enjoy!

Part Three

Weary,

We are all eager

For a rest.

The heat

And long days of travel

Have taken their toll on us.

Whispers run up and down the crowd.

“We approach a town,”

They say,

“Perhaps we will stop.”

I hope they are right.

We reach the gate

As the evening watchmen

Take their place.

As we walk down the main street,

I look around.

The town is quiet,

Somber,

Far more so than it should be.

I wonder what has happened

To bring on this gloom.

As the townspeople see

Our leader,

The One who calls Himself

The Prince of Peace,

Son of the Great King,

A whispering cry goes up.

A man,

Dressed in the black clothes

Of mourning,

Steps towards Him.

“Please, lord,”

He says,

Hopefully,

“Please lord,

My daughter has died today,

But

I have heard of Your works.

If You come

And touch her,

She will live.”

I wonder,

Not for the first time,

At the faith people display that

Our leader

Can heal them,

Though I have never seen Him bring anyone

Back from the dead.

I know, though,

That He rewards those who have faith.

Sure enough,

He speaks.

“Lead Me to your daughter.”

The man turns

And we follow.

As we reach the man’s house

We hear loud crying

And wailing.

Our leader goes inside.

Most stay behind

But

I slip after Him,

Curious.

I follow Him

To the dead girl’s bedroom.

The girl’s mother sits,

Weeping,

By the bed.

Our leader speaks gently to her.

“Weep no more,”

He says,

“She is not dead,

Only asleep.”

The woman looks up,

Surprised.

Our leader takes the hand

Of the dead girl.

“Come,”

He says,

“The night is over.

It is time for you to get up.”

I watch,

Amazed,

As she opens her eyes

And sits up.

The girl’s mother

Throws her arms around her daughter,

Tears of joy

Flowing from her eyes.

The man bows

And thanks our leader.

I stare at Him,

Wondering.

Who is He

To give sight to the blind?

Who is He

To raise a child from the dead?

Could He truly be

The Prince of Peace,

Son of the Great King?

I stare

And wonder,

Not for the last time,

Who He truly is.

Though,

Somehow,

I almost think

I already know the answer.

The Question part two

Hello, everyone! I'm back with the second part of The Question! Here's part one in case you haven't read it yet.

Part Two

Walking.

We have been traveling for weeks,

Following the One

Who calls Himself

The Prince of Peace,

Son of the Great King.

Many have joined us.

Some wait for Him

To overthrow those

Who would oppress us.

Some are simply curious,

Wondering who He is.

And some believe that

He is the Prince of Peace.

I follow because

He called

And I could not say no.

One day,

Hot and dusty like all midsummer,

I see ahead of us

Two girls,

Both younger than my own fifteen years.

One guides the other,

Who stares off with

Eyes that seem not to see.

Their ragged dresses

Hang loose on their gaunt frames.

As they draw closer, I see

That one walks with a limp.

Now I know who they are.

Beggars,

A blind girl

And a cripple.

The blind girl walks humbly,

Guided by the cripple,

But seeming to listen for something.

The cripple steps

Almost proudly

Despite her infirmity.

They are those

Who exist solely on the charity of others.

A blind girl and a cripple,

Beggars,

Useless.

They should be hiding like I once hid,

Though I am not like them.

I hid because

I loved to be alone.

They would hide

Because they would have little choice.

Yet they do not hide.

They continue towards us.

I look at our leader.

Surely

He will not stop,

Not for these,

A blind girl and a cripple!

But

He stops

As they draw near.

They stop too,

The cripple glancing up,

Half in fear,

Half in scorn.

The blind girl still stares,

Sightless,

Her eyes blank.

Our leader speaks gently.

“What do you want Me to do for you?”

The cripple remains silent

But the blind girl

Turns towards His voice.

“Please, sir,”

She asks,

Her voice hopeful.

“Please sir, I believe You can give me my sight.”

A man next to me whispers

“I knew that girl in my old village.

She is blind,

Blind from birth.”

I stare at the blind girl.

She has never seen,

Yet she asks for sight?

I have heard that

Before I joined Him,

Our leader healed the blind,

The sick,

The crippled,

But I believed them to be only rumors.

How can she hope

To have her request granted?

Our leader speaks,

Smiling.

“Then see, daughter, for

Your faith

Has healed you.”

A smile spreads across the face of the girl,

Once blind,

As she looks around,

Seeing for the first time.

I wonder,

Not for the last time,

Who is this man

Who I am following?

This healer,

This miracle worker?

Is He a great teacher,

A prophet,

Like some people say?

Or is He who He says He is,

The Prince of Peace,

Son of the Great King?

I look ahead

And see the cripple walking away,

Scornful of what our leader

Might do for her.

The once-blind girl,

Kneels before our leader,

Joyfully thanking Him,

And then she joins our group.

The whispers fly.

“The cripple,

The blind girl’s sister,

Refused healing.

She came only for her sister’s sake,

Now she is leaving.”

I watch her go

And wonder,

Not for the last time,

What she truly has refused.

What do you think? I'd love it if you'd comment and tell me! Thanks for reading!

-Sarah

The Question Part One

Hello, everyone! I'm here with the first part of The Question, a story in poem form. This is from my Tales of the Great King series, and it takes place in the years just before The Sacrifice. As a note, this is written in the free verse style of poetry, which doesn't have to rhyme. With that, enjoy!

Part One

Hiding.

Alone.

Here, in my forest,

I stay.

Alone.

Wandering,

Walking,

Silent as the breeze,

Always on the move.

One day

He sees me

And I see him.

I freeze,

Poised to flee

But I do not run.

Not yet.

Something about him

Keeps me here,

Seems to call my name.

“Teresa,

Teresa,”

He somehow seems to whisper,

Tugging at me to come.

I stare at him,

Frightened,

And yet not afraid.

Finally, I speak.

“Who are you?”

He answers,

“I am

The Prince of Peace,

Son of the Great King.”

I stare,

Trembling,

Wondering,

Who is this man to make such a claim?

Who is He to say

He is the Son of the Great King?

It cannot be possible

And yet, somehow,

I almost believe Him.

I look,

Fearfully,

Into His eyes,

And I find

Love,

Kindness,

And strength reflected there.

He speaks again

And His voice

Tugs at me,

Pulls at my heart.

“Come,”

He says,

“Follow Me.”

He turns to go.

I hesitate.

“Come,

Follow Me,”

He has said.

I am afraid.

I do not want to leave my hiding place,

My safe forest,

But

He has called me.

“Come,

Follow me.”

And so

I follow.

What do you think? I hope you like it! Thanks for reading!

-Sarah

The Reason: A Christmas Story Conclusion

Hello, everyone! I'm here with the conclusion of The Reason: A Christmas Story! Here's part seven if you need a refresher. Enjoy!

Conclusion

Angel turned away, weeping, as Kayla was carried away. After a while, Dustin came in. He found her curled on Kayla’s bed, sobbing silently. “Are yu alright?” he asked, gently.

            Angel raised her tearstained face. “No, I’m not ok. Why’d Kayla have to go? Things were just getting better?”

            Dustin sighed. “I don’t b’ knowin’ why this happens t’ anyone, Angel. The only things I b’ knowin’ are that she’s with the Great King and we have t’ go on with our lives.”

            Angel shook her head. “The Great King can’t be real. If he’s real, then why were my parents murdered? Why did my aunt turn me out of her home? Why did Kayla get sick and die?” Angel suddenly became angry. “I haven’t cried in years! The last time I cried was when Mother and Father died! I was tough! But if the Great King was real, I wouldn’t have to be tough! I wouldn’t have to beg just to get a few crusts for Kayla or learn to fight so that the bigger boys wouldn’t beat me and take my only food! But all that did happen, so he can’t be real! He just can’t!” She scowled. “I survived by knowing what’s real and what’s not, not by believing in fairy tales. I don’t plan to stop that now.” She sniffled, her anger dying into despair. “Why even celebrate Yuletide? There’s no real meaning in it. It’s just a time for rich people to flaunt their money and poor people to feel worse than they already do.”

            Dustin had no answer for Angel’s rant. He just sat on the bed and held her as she cried, getting out her sadness at everything that had ever gone wrong in her life.  

            Angel continued to mope for almost a week. Although Dustin did his best to comfort her and she could see for herself how Sir Connor, at least, was working to help the poor, nothing could console her. She ate little, and soon became ill. Then the letter came.

            Dustin knocked on the door of Angel’s room. “Angel? Might I b’ allowed in?”

            “I guess so,” came the forlorn reply.

            Dustin opened the door and walked in. Angel was sitting on the bed, her knees draw up to her chest. She wore a simple, blue dress that her hosts had given her. “How are yu today?” Dustin asked.

            Angel shrugged.

            Dustin pulled a letter from his pocket. “This letter came for yu. Do yu want t’ read it?”

            Angel shrugged again. “I suppose.” Dustin handed her the letter, and she broke the gold wax seal and unfolded the piece of paper. Suddenly, she gasped.

            Dustin forced himself to not dash to Angel’s side. “What is it, lass?” he asked.

            Angel just shook her head, gazing at the familiar handwriting. She slowly began to read it, each word seeming like a miracle.

“Dear Angel,

                Why are you still weeping, Angel? I am not dead, or it does not seem that way to me. In fact, I am more alive here that I ever have been. I am with the Great King now, Angel, and while I cannot come back to you, I am not dead, so don’t cry for me. I am happier than I have ever been! I cannot even begin to describe the country here. It’s absolutely beautiful.

                When I was still with you, you once asked me why I thanked the Great King, and I could tell that there were many other questions hidden behind it. I’m sure one of them was “Why do you believe.” Angel, you need to believe in something! The Great King is the One who helped me to stay cheerful in my despair, and were it not for Him, I really would have died. If you now feel an ache, I am sure that it is not only for me but for Him as well. I hope that my letter has brought you hope. Your Friend,

                                                                                                Kayla”

            Tears once more ran down Angel’s face, but not tears of hurt. These were tears of sorrow for herself. Kayla’s simply written letter had made an incredible impact. She was right all along and I thought her crazy! I must be the most despicable of friends. She must be alive. Only Kayla knows what I asked her, and she could not write the letter if she was dead. How in the world was I so blind? Words rose unbidden from her heart to her lips, and she whispered “Great King, You know that I never believed in You, but I do now. Please forgive me, though I am not worthy.”

            All at once, joy flooded Angel’s heart, washing away all the anger, hatred, and sorrow. She felt strangely light, and a strong, kind voice whispered in her heart. “You will never want, my child. I will keep you safe.”

            Angel smiled then, a real smile like she had not smiled in years. “Kayla was right. He is real!” she said.

            Dustin smiled. “Aye. That he b’. The Great King is more real than any o’ the other things people believe in this cold, hard world.” He sat down beside Angel, and she fell into his arms. “And He is the reason we celebrate, Angel. We remember what the Great King did for us and what He is doing for us. That is the reason for Yuletide.”

            As it turned out, Angel became an enthusiastic follower of the Great King. She was adopted by Dustin, and they both were active in helping the poor. Lady Leslie also came around, and she and Sir Connor did quiet a bit, funding orphanages, starting the first soup kitchen in the city, and much more besides telling others about what needed done. But none of them ever forgot Kayla, the little girl who, through her departure for the Kingdom of Light, changed more lives than could be imagined.

Thanks for reading, and merry Christmas!

-Sarah

The Reason: A Christmas Story Part Seven

Hello! I’m here again, with part seven of The Reason: A Christmas Story! Here’s part six in case you need a refresher. Enjoy!

Part Seven

Not long afterwards, the doctor emerged from Kayla’s room, a scowl on his face. Angel rushed up to him. Falling into “street talk” in her concern, she asked “Please, gov’nor, will Kayla be alright?”

            The doctor’s scowl softened when he saw Angel’s pleading face. “I’m very sorry. Your friend . . . well . . . she probably won’t make it.” He turned to Dustin. “My guess is that she had weak lungs from birth, and the combination of malnutrition and cold that she got on the streets made it so bad that this happened. I’m actually surprised it didn’t happen earlier. Someone must’ve been taking care of her.”

            Angel struggled to keep back tears. “How’d you know that me an’ Kayla lived on the streets, gov’nor?”

            The doctor sighed. “I’ve seen the symptoms often enough to recognize it.” His scowl deepened. “Someone really should do something about it. It’s shameful how we all seem to ignore them. I do what I can, but running the practice and the home take quite a bit of money, and I can’t afford to do much.”

            Dustin nodded. “Aye, doctor. I’d b’ the first t’ agree with yu. I’m tryin’ t’ do something about it, and it b’ good t’ know that there are others.”

            The doctor nodded. “I’ll agree to that. Let me know if you need help. Good day and the Great King bless you.”

            Dustin smiled. “The same t’ yu, doctor.”

            Angel tugged on Dustin’s sleeve. “May I see Kayla?” she asked.

            Dustin nodded. “Go ahead. Yu go see yur friend, and spend some time with her before it b’ too late.”

            Angel slowly walked into the sunny room where Kayla lay. The younger girl lay curled in bed, shivering despite the many blankets. A tray of untouched food sat on the bedside table. Angel rushed to her friend’s side. “Kayla?”

            Kayla turned towards Angel. “Angel. I hoped you’d come.”

            Angel did her best to smile, but it was more difficult than it ever had been. “I’m here, Kayla. Don’t worry.”

            Kayla’s voice sounded like it was coming from far away. “I’m dying, Angel. I’ll be with the Great King soon.”

            Angel shook her head, tears blurring her vision. The doctor’s words echoed in her mind, and she inwardly vowed that she’d prove them wrong. “No, Kayla! Don’t say that! You can live! I know you can! You have to! Things are just getting better, I can tell!”

            Kayla just smiled. “Don’t be afraid of losing me, Angel. I’ll be happy forever with Him.”

            Angel frowned. “No! Don’t say that! You’re just giving up without a fight!” Angel almost feared how grown-up Kayla sounded. Why is this happening? How can she be so at peace?

            Kayla sighed. “Angel, do you have my Treasure?”

            Angel nodded, and pulled it from her basket. “I have it.”

            “Can you read the passage called “The Shepherd Song” to me?” Kayla requested.

            Angel flipped through the pages. She found the passage near the middle, close to where she had read the circled verse. “The Great King is my Shepherd. I shall never want. He gives me a safe place to lie down, and He leads me beside quiet streams of water. He gives me life.  Even though I walk through danger and death’s shadow is upon me, I will not fear evil. The Great King will protect and comfort me. He prepares a great feast for me while my enemies are nearby. He calls me His child. I have no needs. Goodness and love will always be near me, and I will dwell with Him forever*.”

            As Angel read, Kayla’s face became peaceful, almost blissful. “Thank You, Great King.” she whispered. “I know that I will soon be with You. Please help Angel. She doesn’t understand about You, even though she needs to. I love You.”

            The door opened, and two tall, strong men entered. They strode silently to Kayla’s bed and began to lift her.

            Angel launched herself at the nearest man, attempting to make him leave Kayla. “Who are you? Leave her alone!” she screeched.

            The man turned from Kayla and effortlessly detached Angel. “We are taking her to the Great King. Do not hinder us.”

            Angel redoubled her attack. “No! She can live!”

            The man shook his head. “If she does not come with us, she will die.”

            Kayla raised her head from where she was nestled in the other man’s arms. She looked surprisingly alive as she said “Let me go, Angel. They are warriors of the Great King. They will not harm me.”

            Kayla’s words, so simple, were the only thing in the world that could ever stop Angel when she was upset, and they did just that. Angel let go of the man and backed away, but her eyes filled with tears. “I’ll miss you Kayla. I’ll miss you forever.”

            Kayla leaned down to give her friend one last kiss. “Don’t cry for me, Angel. I’ll be home soon.”

Thanks for reading!

-Sarah

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*Based on Psalm 23

The Reason: A Christmas Story Part Six

Hello, everyone! I’m back again, with more of The Reason: A Christmas story! Need a refresher from last time? Here’s part five. And now, part six!

Part Six

Angel sighed and looked around the small shack. Slowly, she walked around, gathering what meager belongings she thought that she and Kayla might need: the food that Lady Leslie had given her, their small stash of coins, and one last thing. That was Kayla’s worn and tattered copy of The Treasure. Angel hesitated as she picked it up.  Should I bring it? Kayla really should give up her fantasy of a Great King. Then she decided. I’ll take it. Kayla might want it for the comfort of something familiar. Kayla said that it was the only thing that she was able to keep when her parents were thrown in prison for debt. For some reason, Angel flipped through the pages. The little book fell open to a page near the middle, and Angel noticed that one passage had been circled. She read it aloud. “I waited for the Great King, and He heard my cry. He lifted me out of my trouble and despair; He set my feet on solid ground and gave me a firm place to stand. *” Angel suddenly felt ashamed. Maybe He is real. That is kind of what happened. She shook her head, startled at her thoughts. What am I thinking? It’s just a coincidence. That has to be it.

Tucking the things she had gathered into her basket, she walked out of the shack and towards Sir Connor’s house.

            The doctor arrived a few minutes before Angel did. He was immediately shown into Kayla’s room. As soon as Angel arrived, she asked “Can I see Kayla?”

            Dustin shook his head. “Nay. The doctor arrived a few minutes ago, and he cannot b’ disturbed. B’ patient, lass.”

            Angel frowned. “What? But she’s my best friend!”

            Dustin was about to answer when Lady Leslie entered the room. “Why was the doctor called?” she demanded. “Is someone hurt?”

            Dustin chose his words carefully. “Well, not exactly. I would not b’ sayin’ that anyone is hurt, but there’s a wee lass who seems t’ b’ quite ill.”

            Lady Leslie gasped. “What? She’s not contagious, is she? That would be just what I need, a quarantine during Yuletide.”

            Dustin frowned. Lady Leslie was beginning to annoy him. “Well, milady, the doctor will b’ tellin’ us that as soon as he knows.”

            Lady Leslie suddenly grew angry. “If my holiday is ruined because you brought some deathly ill and contagious street urchin into my home, then you will not be invited back! The idea! I do believe that you’re trying to ruin my enjoyment.”

            Dustin finally lost his composure. “Lady Leslie! Please! I believed yu t’ follow the Great King, but yu dinna seem t’ do that now. If yu do, please show some compassion! The lass whom the doctor is seein’ has next t’ nothin’! I just b’ tryin’ t’ help her!”

            Lady Leslie quailed. “Very well. I must go.” With that, she swept out of the room.

            Angel bit her lip. “Does she have a problem with Kayla and me?”

            Dustin sighed. “She just b’ gettin’ used t’ thinkin’ o’ others, and t’ the fact that yu exist. Yu’ll have t’ give her time.”

            Angel nodded, but inwardly she wondered How much time do I have to give her?  

What will happen to Kayla and Angel? Will Lady Leslie ever come around? You’ll have to wait until next time to find out. Thanks for reading!

-Sarah

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*Based on Psalm 40:1-2

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