Toria {a parable}

This parable is the third in a series of tales about a mythical Kingdom ruled by one great King and maintained by His vast army of Warriors. Each person serves in an appointed area and each lives to give honor and glory to their King. Their jobs are simple: bring as many into the Kingdom as possible. Written especially for girls, these tales are written to focus on truths that can be translated into our lives today.

For the King! For the Kingdom!

Toria

a tale of healing

The battle was fierce. The hardest that the Warriors had ever fought. They knew it was impossible to take the city but the King’s plea rang in their ears, “There is a wounded girl, her heart has been crying to me. Save her. Bring her to the kingdom.”

He had called together all his most trusted Warriors. Even some of the ancient ones. Abashi, the Commander who had been with the King when the kingdom was formed, led the attack. Together with Aldwin and Cal, they had planned a daring rescue. Victory against the city was unattainable but they needed just one thing: to keep the enemy occupied long enough for the warrior-women to sneak into the dungeons and save the girl whose heart was crying.

“Alana,” Aldwin called, as his sword flashed. “Now is the time.” His beautiful warrior-wife lifted her head and met his eye. With a quick nod she slipped from the battle ranks. Soon she was met by Emberlyn and Clara. Throwing dark cloaks over their bright clothing, concealing their swords, they slipped through the enemy lines and headed straight toward the towering castle.

The dungeon door suddenly banged open and the girl jumped in fear. The only thing that ever came through the door was the monster. She started crying, uncontrollable. She was sure to die this time. She could not fight the monster again for she had no strength left.

The feeling of something soft touching her caused her eyes to jerk open and the tears to clog in her throat. She stared up at the strange looking woman who was bending over her. “Wh-h-o are you?” She mumbled out, her speech slurred from lack of use.

“I am Clara.” The woman answered. “Do you think you can stand?”

“N-no.” The girl responded. “I-I c-cannot.” She started crying again. “I am s-so t-tired.”

“It‘s okay.” Clara slipped an arm around the girl. “I will carry you.” She was amazed at the slightness of the child and felt her heart squeeze. No wonder the King had sent them.

The girl stared at Clara as they snuck through the underground of the castle. How was it possible for someone to be so plain looking and yet so completely lovely at the same time? “W-where a-are y-you taking me?” She asked, her body shaking.

“To see the King.” Clara answered, then shushed her gently. “We must be quiet now.”

The girl leaned her head against Clara’s shoulder and closed her eyes in exhaustion. She never saw the other two women who soon flanked their side. Nor did she see the great Warriors fighting the fiercest battle of their lives, just for her. Nor did she see the look of tender compassion and intense protectiveness that the warrior-women gave her. The only thing she knew was rest. For the first time in so many years, she had found rest.

“Oh, Alana.” Aldwin moaned to his wife when they had pulled away from the battle. He looked away from the girl, his heart breaking.

“I know.” Alana whispered. “Clara said that she hardly has the strength to speak.”

“It was the monster.” Clara said, walking up from behind them. “I saw him.” She laid another blanket over the slight form. “It looks like they made her fight the monster over and over.” She pointed to the old scars. “Whenever her wounds healed, they would send him in again.”

“But, why?” Alana questioned. “What could a child possibly have done to deserve this?”

Abashi came over then, having finished organizing the men for their homeward trip. “It’s the Enemy.” He said in explanation. He motioned for a Warrior to bring over a wagon. “He controls this city.”

The women placed blankets and cushions on the wagon and Aldwin lifted the girl, placing her on the soft bedding. She never stirred.

“Is it just that the Enemy hates the King so much?” Emberlyn questioned as she climbed onto the wagon beside the girl.

“Yes,” Abashi responded, “And he hates anything beautiful. Anything clean. Anything joyful.”

“So, at some point,” Alana said quietly, “This dear child was beautiful and clean and joyful.”

“And probably spoke of the King.” Cal shook his head. “I cannot wait until the King conquers that evil man once and for all.”

“He cannot yet.” Abashi told them, as they prepared their horses. “When the Enemy is destroyed, the whole city will go and all those in it. He has to allow time…” He swung himself up on his horse and looked toward the other Warriors. “Time to save as many as possible.” He looked again at the sleeping girl, covered with scars and open wounds. “Like her.”

“There is only one thing to do.” Clara stated as she pulled herself up onto the wagon beside the other two. “Let’s get her to the King as quick as possible. Only he can heal someone as wounded as this.”

Soon after the Warriors could be seen, galloping across the fields toward the Kingdom and the King.

———————

The girl opened her eyes. The room was big and light. She turned her head slowly, wincing at the pain that was sure to come. To her surprise, it never came. She turned her head again. Where was she? Oh, yes, that woman had come to the dungeon.

“Hello, there.” A voice said. The girl couldn’t see the owner of the voice but she felt warm at the sound. The words felt like soft waves of water swirling across her skin.

“It’s good to see you awake.” The voice said again. The girl turned her eyes, searching for the man who was speaking. He stepped forward, into her line of vision. He was tall and warm and vibrant. Who was he? She didn’t fear him, not like she had feared the Enemy. Instead she was in awe of him. To be so strong and so loving.

“Toria,” The man said, “Do you like that name? I think it fits you.”

The girl shook her head stiffly. “I don’t remember my real name.” She caught sight of the gold band around the man’s head. Was he the King that woman had talked about?

“That’s okay. In the Kingdom, everyone gets new names.” The King knelt by her bed. “Here, let me help you sit up.”

She sat up slowly. What a beautiful place! She felt so warm and comfortable. “I like the name Toria.” She looked over at the King. “What does it mean?”

“It means ‘always bright’.” He told her.

“Oh.” Toria looked down, catching sight of her scarred hands. “That’s not a very good name for me.”

“It’s a perfect name for you.” The King assured her. “Do you know why you’re here, in my kingdom?”

She shook her head.

“Because you have a bright heart that called for me, even from the dungeons. Do you remember crying for me?”

“I remember crying for a Savior.” Toria responded.

The King laughed. It was such a bright cheery laugh. “And that, my dear, Toria, is me.” He helped her stand to her feet.

She was amazed at the strength in her legs. Her feet were still scarred but all the wounds were closed. She looked at the King. “I’m healed.” She said softly.

“Mostly.” The King smiled at her. “As you live in the Kingdom, your complete healing will come.” He took hold of her hand. “Now, I have some people for you to meet.”

————————-

Toria stepped into a room. It was a large room, with beautiful swirled paintings on the walls. She saw a group of people and with the King still holding her hand, walked toward them.

“Toria!” A woman called out as she separated from the group. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you!”

Toria stared at the woman. Something about her seemed so familiar but she couldn’t seem to place it. Did she know her?

“I’m Clara.” The woman smiled brightly, her face dancing. “Do you remember me?”

“Oh.” Toria looked around, confused. “You look different than I remember.”

Another woman laughed. “Of course she does.” The woman was tall and lovely with roses nestled in her hair. “She’s a princess. They never go out of the kingdom without disguising themselves.” The woman slipped an arm around Toria. “I’m Alana.”

“How did you know my name?” Toria asked.

“We brought you to the Kingdom weeks ago!” Clara told her.

Toria suddenly panicked. “Where’s the King?” She asked, looking around the group. All she saw were great warriors, with swords and smiles. Where had he gone?

“He’ll be back.” Alana assured her. “The King comes and goes. Don’t worry.”

“Yes, yes. No need to worry.” Clara repeated. “We have other things to do.”

“Indeed!” Alana declared.

“Like, what?” Toria asked.

“We’re going to get you settled in your new home.” Alana answered.

“Yes.” Clara smiled, “The King had a special place prepared just for you.” She turned toward the Warrior-men who were still talking amongst themselves. “Aldwin, is everything ready?”

“Yes, Princess.” Aldwin nodded, sending a warm smile toward the rescued girl. “Everything is ready and waiting for the King’s new daughter.”

The trip to her new home was short. Still inside the castle, she was taken past the stone-steps that led to the King’s chambers and around another corner. There, in the outer wall was a lovely apartment.

“If it is okay with you,” Clara smiled down at her, “We have built you a room onto the side of my home. That way you can share a bit of life with me as you learn and grow in the kingdom.”

Toria’s eyes were large as she looked at the tall warriors around her. “You want me to live with you?” Then suddenly, she grew fearful. “Are you going to feed me to the monsters?”

Clara dropped to her knees beside the girl as the others turned their heads slightly to hide their tears. “Oh, no, Toria. The King sent us to rescue you from the monsters. I can’t promise that you will never feel pain in the kingdom but I can promise that you will never be given to the monsters again, as long as you stay here.”

“If I never have to face the monsters, then I will never leave.” Toria proclaimed with a shaky voice.

She started toward the apartment door and didn’t notice the sad look that filled the warriors eyes. Nor did she hear Aldwin’s quiet whisper. “You will never be given to them, my dear, but that does not mean that you will never again face them.”

———————-

Toria’s life took on a routine of sorts. She lived with Clara and helped keep the house. She learned to cook and sew and soon began to enjoy taking short trips into the village to buy food.

And more than any of those things, she spent part of every day with the King. He was more wonderful than anything she could have imagine. Kind, loving, forgiving.

Still, Toria found that while she felt satisfied with much of her life, she felt like somehow she was missing something. Every morning she would say goodbye to the Warriors as they rode to battle.

Breathtakingly beautiful Clara would be disguised as a simple peasant. Yet, soon, Toria learned to look behind the disguise and see the beauty that shown out of her eyes.

Alana and Aldwin would go, bringing back children from all over the enemy’s territory.

Cal and Emberlyn would leave with their company and bring back little girls who were carrying piles of rocks.

Everyone seemed to know their purpose clearly. Everyone seemed to be working for the King with diligence.

She missed her friends. She wished they would just stay in the Kingdom with her. Still, somehow she knew that she couldn’t ask that of them.

Yet, she envied them. Envied their trust. Envied their abilities. Envied their strength. Most of all, she envied their relationship with the King. They never seemed to doubt Him. Never seemed to wonder if He was with them. Not the way she did.

One time Alana’s daughter asked if she would go to war as well. Toria was overcome with fear and could not leave her small room for a week. Just the thought of the monster was enough to send her scurrying for cover.

The King watched her sadly but did not stop her retreat. Instead, He waited.

Under the careful supervision of Aldwin, Toria learned to use a sword. He patiently taught her the art of battle and in time she could spin around the practice ring, sword flying and clashing against her opponents with speed and accuracy.

Alana taught her to keep her mind focused on the King while in battle, singing for his glory and fighting for his honor.

But it was Clara who really tutored her. Toria would watch as Clara arrived home from battle, the peasant disguise fading as she entered the Kingdom and the beautiful Princess emerging.

“The King is always with you.” Clara would say to her, as they prepared for the night in their small apartment. “You need not fear.”

Toria would stare at the Warrior-Princess in amazement. In her mind, Clara was the most wonderful beautiful thing in the Kingdom. At times she would even think, “If Clara was with me, perhaps I could go to war.” After all, Clara had saved her from the monster once. She could easily do it again.

By the time Toria was a young woman, she was well trained in the King’s ways. Still, every day she would hide when the King’s Commanders would call their companies to order, preparing to lead them into battle. She would watch from a tall tower as they left the Kingdom, heading toward the Enemy’s land where the monsters lived.

Her heart would beat wildly, a longing growing to leave with them and fight like she had been taught. But then the fear would come, so strong she could taste it. So she hid.

——————————-

One day the King sat with Toria in His chambers where they had been visiting.

She grew quiet for a time then said, “My King?” as she looked up at him. The scars on her face still shown white against her tanned skin.

“Yes, Tori?” The King answered.

“Do you desire me to go to war?” She whispered.

“Yes, my dear. I desire that all the people in the Kingdom go out into the world and help save the lost.” He kept his tone gentle but he could still see the stiffening of her spine at the words.

“So I am a disappointment then,” she said, resigned.

He tilted her chin, pulling her gaze to his own. “Toria, you are not a disappointment. You are beloved.” He looked as if he desired to say more but kept silent.

“I’m afraid.” Toria finally said after moments of silence.

“I know.” He answered.

————————–

Several nights later Toria was walking past the assembly room and heard the King speaking. Not knowing why, she was drawn to the doorway. His words echoed through the great hall and the men gathered listened intently.

“The Enemy has captured a village and thrown three of the residents into the dungeons of Milordia. They have been left to fight the monsters and are too weak to continue.” His gaze met the Commanders in front of him, “I need several companies to attack and a band of warrior-women to infiltrate the city to rescue them. Clara has agreed to lead the women. What Commanders are willing to lead? Cal? Aldwin? Micah?”

The men stood as the King spoke their names.

“For the King!” Aldwin’s voice rose.

“For the Kingdom!” The other two responded.

The King looked up from his position and noticed Toria, standing in the doorway. “And you, my little bright one,” He reached a hand toward her, “will you use your skills to help save the lost?”

She hesitated then looked at the men standing. They were the strongest people she knew. She would be safe from the monsters. They’ll protect me.

“Okay,” she whispered, “if you need me.”

The King smiled at her, excitement brimming from His eyes.

“We do, my bright one.” He lifted her in a warm hug and fear clenched her chest.

————————————

The next morning, Toria rode out of the Kingdom for the first time since her arrival many years before.

The battle was fierce. Swords flashing. Arrows flying. Warriors shouting. Toria hid behind the supply wagon. She had been so thankful to hear that her job was to help with the meals. It was simple. And no fighting. Yet, the war seemed to be coming closer, surrounding her.

She kept watching. Terrified that the monsters would come. The women left her to break into the dungeons and she was alone.

I’m safe. She told herself. There were hundreds of trained Warriors around her. They would save her. They promised her that she’d never be fed to the monsters. They promised.

A cry of victory rose and she peaked from behind the wagon to see the warrior-women arriving with three waifs in their arms. The wounded were gently lifted into a wagon.

Something seemed to shake from within the enemy city and fresh soldiers poured through the gates. Every warrior turned to face the new onslaught. Except Toria. She ducked back behind the supply wagon and trembled from head to toe.

It was then that she heard it. A low growl that made her skin crawl and her breath die in her throat. “No.” She whispered, looking around for help. No one was close enough to call out to. She heard the noise again. It was so familiar. “I said I didn’t want to come to war.” She whispered, closing her eyes and pretending everything was fine.

She opened her eyes and saw it. The fiery red eyes and long vicious claws. “No!” The sound was piercing and frightening. She started running, racing to escape. She never saw Clara’s head jerk up, so she never saw the tears that fell for her.

Toria stopped running when she came to a great stone wall. She spun around, seeing too late that she had trapped herself. It was the same monster. The one from the dungeon. The one from her nightmares. The reason she hadn’t been willing to go to war for so many years.

“Help me!” She screamed as the monster leapt toward her and the claws ripped open the old wounds on her face. She screamed again as she was knocked to the ground. Her sword was still strapped to her side, forgotten as she kicked frantically, using every bit of strength she had. Where was everyone? Why weren’t they helping her?

The fear that had been laying doormat for years began to grow and spiral through her until she felt as if she couldn’t breathe. The pain blossomed and blood streamed into her eyes. With all she had left, she shoved the monster and stood to her feet. Then she ran again. She ran and ran, terrified. Something pushed her from behind and she ran faster.

Wiping the blood from her eyes she caught sight of Clara, fighting bravely. She waved her arms, hollering her name even as she felt the monsters hot breath on her neck. Clara looked toward her but continued on, never moving to save her.

Horrified, Toria looked around. Everyone was busy, distracted. They didn’t seem to notice that she was dying. A claw sank into her shoulder and she cried out as she went down. Why am I trying? She thought as the pain enveloped her. They don’t love me. They aren’t helping me. They promised to never feed me to the monsters, yet I am being eaten just the same.

Her hand fell limp at her side, brushing the hilt of her sword. Aldwin’s voice echoed in her memory. “Remember your sword, Tori. It is the only thing you have to fight with.”

She kicked her feet against the monster and yanked her sword from its sheaf. Her arm was so weak she could barely lift it. “Use the King’s name, Toria, speak it, sing it, shout it. Keep your mind on Him.” Alana’s voice whispered along with Aldwin’s.

“For the King.” The barely audible words slipped from blood stained lips. The monster roared. “For the kingdom!” She said, bracing the sword as the beast swiped at her, hitting the sharp edge. It only seemed to enrage the animal more. He drew back then charged with teeth bared.

I’m going to die. Toria groaned in agony. She scooted backward, glancing around. There was nothing. No one. It was only her and her worst nightmare. I’m all alone and I’m going to die.

“The King is always with you.” Clara’s gentle whisper broke through the layers of fear that were choking her.

“Where?!” She screamed, angry. “I’m dying and where is He?” Teeth sank into her arm and the sword dropped.

Rain began to pour from the sky. The water splashed against her bloodied face. In the fog of her pain she realized that the sound of the water reminded her of the Kings voice.

She looked down and found that the sword was back in her hand. Something was lifting her from the ground. The monster was roaring again, starting to charge. Warmth pressed against her back, bracing her. She let out a war-cry and lifted her sword as the monster came. Another sword appeared beside hers and a strong arm held them both steady. She watched as the beast fell to the ground in front of her, dead.

She stood staring at the unmoving body. Every nightmare she had ever faced. Dead. The warmth at her back spread through the rest of her body. She knew who was there before she turned. Knew it was Him.

His eyes met hers. His arms surrounded her. “You came.” She whispered and cried.

————————–

It was nightfall by the time they caught up with the Company. Emberlyn rushed to meet them, Alana right behind her with bandages. They surrounded her, washing her face, applying ointment, wrapping the torn flesh with strips of white cloth.

The King stood beside her, holding her hand. She wanted to ask why He had waited so long but realized that it didn’t matter. He had come.

Clara came walking up and Toria felt a stab of betrayal. The King had come but Clara had turned away from her. She had begged for help and Clara had been too busy. They all had. They knew of her fears. Knew what she had faced all those years in the dungeons. Now there would be more scars to add to the old.

“My King.” Clara knelt. “How goes the battle?”

The King, still holding Toria’s hand, smiled. “It goes very well, Princess.”

Clara turned her gaze to Toria. “You killed your monster.”

“No thanks to you.” Toria answered, shocked at her bitter tone.

The Princess didn’t flinch or look ashamed. “You thought you needed my help?”

“Of course I did. I was all alone.” She pointed out, frustrated that she still didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, my Tori-girl.” Clara laughed.  “You were never alone.” She pointed to the King, still holding her hand. “He was fighting beside you from the very beginning. You never needed me.”

Toria turned and looked into the King’s face. “It’s true.” He said, squeezing her hand gently. “I would never leave you to face any monster alone.”

Truth filled Toria’s heart. His footsteps beside her as she ran. His hand pushing hers to her sword. His voice reminding her of all she had learned. His arms lifting her up, bracing her back. His sword joining hers in the death blow.

He had been there just as He promised. Warmth spread through her. She could trust Him. Even in the middle of her pain, she could trust Him. Leaning forward, she kissed His cheek. “Thank you, my King.”

————————-

It barely took a week for the wounds to heal. Nothing had cut deeper than the skin and Toria was amazed at how quickly they closed and were gone.

At the Celebration at weeks end, she was able to attend. Her sword banged against her leg as she walked to the square, listening to the songs of the people.

A step appeared beside her and she looked up into the King’s face.  He smiled. She smiled back. A smile of belonging. Of faithfulness. Of trust. They reached the fountain and the King leaned forward to whisper, “Now, my little bright one, you are truly healed.”

She glanced down and caught sight of her reflection. The wounds were healed but something else was different. She looked again and saw that what He said was true. The scars were gone.

Emberlyn (A Parable)

 

This parable is the second in a series of tales about a mythical Kingdom ruled by one great King and maintained by His vast army of Warriors. Each person serves in an appointed area and each lives to give honor and glory to their King. Their jobs are simple: bring as many into the Kingdom as possible. Thwart the Enemy at every turn. Written especially for girls, these tales are written to focus on truths that can be translated into our lives today.

For the King! For the Kingdom!

Emberlyn

A Tale of Freedom

At the very edge of the kingdom there was a small cottage. A young woman lived there. She was short and slightly plump with blondish hair and pretty green eyes. There weren’t many people who remembered when she actually moved to the kingdom. At times, she even forgot that day, so many years ago when the King’s men had taken her village and brought her to the Kingdom.  
 
It was a hot day. Horribly hot. Emby could feel sweat trickling down her back as she stood up. She wanted to sit down and rest for a minute but the Forman’s words burned in her memory. “Don’t stop, no matter what. Pick the rocks. Don’t drop them. Whatever you do, don’t drop the rocks!”

Emby felt tears pushing at the back of her eyes. If she could just rest for a second… She looked up and saw the Foreman staring at her with those mean eyes. The whip cracked and Emby flinched as she bent to pick up another rock.

It was then, as she was bent over staring at the stones that she saw it. Just the flicker of sun against something shiny but it caught her eye. She stood slowly, the rock forgotten, and squinted her eyes to look toward the east.

She had never seen anyone like him. He was tall and strong and carried a glinting sword instead of a black snapping whip. At the sight of him the Foreman began backing away. Emby looked at the Foreman with wide eyes. He had forgotten all about her. The two big men stared at each other. One with fear and the other with quiet confidence. After a moment the Foreman disappeared, running back toward the village.

Emby looked at the strange man. He was walking towards her with a brilliant smile on his face. Over the hill behind him came a trail of warriors. They all looked like him, tall, strong, carrying flashing swords. She knew that she should feel afraid. What was it that the Foreman always said? “Run away from anything you don’t know.” But there was something about the way the man was smiling at her. He seemed so kind.

“Hello.” He said, coming to stand in front of her. He dropped down onto one knee to look her in the eye. “My name is Aldwin. What’s yours?”

“Emby.” She responded. There was no way she could have known what a sight she made. Covered with dirt from head to toe, with stones stuffed in her pockets and hung around her neck. Such a tiny little child hidden under all those heavy rocks.

“Emby, would like to come with me to meet the King?” The warrior asked.
“They say there isn’t any King.” The rock-laden girl said, sadly.
“Oh, little Emby, there is.” Aldwin smiled widely and raised an arm, motioning for another warrior to join them. “And he would love to meet you. Would you like to go see him?”
“Oh, yes.” Emby breathed. To see the King! She could hardly imagine such an adventure. She looked over as another big warrior dropped onto one knee beside her.

“Hello, little one.” The man smiled. He looked so pleasant, just like Aldwin, only a bit younger. He didn’t frown at her or snap a big whip. He just smiled.

Suddenly, she remembered the Foreman. She looked back toward the village, fear making her hands shake. “But, I, I can’t.” She said sadly, “The Foreman will be angry. I must gather stones.” Her gaze turned toward the ground and she bend to get another rock.

Aldwin’s big hand caught her arm and she looked up at him. “No, no, Emby. The Foreman isn’t going to be angry with you. He is, even now, trying to escape. You see, we already went through the village and conquered it for the King. If you want to see the King, this man, Cal, will take you.”

“That’s for sure,” Cal said, “I’ll take you right now. The King would love to meet you.”
“Really?” Emby whispered.
“Really.” The men both replied.
Cal stood up. “Here,” He started to take the stones from her hands, “You can leave the rocks. You won’t need them in the Kingdom.”
“No!” Emby screamed, pulling the stones to her chest. “No. I can’t leave them. I can’t. They said I can’t ever drop my rocks. I can’t drop them. I have to carry them.” Her eyes were wide with a deep burning fear.

Aldwin settled a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, child.” He stood and looked at Cal. “We’ll let the King take care of her.”

Cal smiled and nodded. He whistled loudly and a great bay stallion came running towards them. He reached down and lifted the frail child into his arms and pulled himself expertly onto the horse, settling her in front of him. “To the King!” He hollered, lifting his sword skyward.

The warriors in the field lifted their swords in response. “To the Kingdom!”

They started off and soon Emby was lulled to sleep by the thundering hoof beats. Cal smiled down at her and he tucked her close to his chest.

They arrived at the big iron gate some time later. Emby looked around in wonder at the huge fortified city as Cal pulled the stallion to a stop and called out, “King’s business!”
“What business?” Came the answering cry.
“The saving of the lost!” Cal responded. Immediately the gates crashed down and the two rode swiftly in.

Emby was startled at the strangeness of the place. There were people working everywhere but they seemed so different from the people in the village. These people were smiling and laughing. One lady was singing a lilting little song as she swept the cobblestone street. Emby strained her ears to catch the words.

 “Hail to the King!
  The Mighty and Glorious
   Loving and Victorious
    Wonderful King of all!”

To think that all her life she had lived with people who said there was no King, and here, in this lovely place, people even sang songs about him! The Foreman never let them even talk about the King. “Foolishness! There is no King!” He hollered at them. “If you have time for such foolishness then you must not have picked enough rocks!”  Then his horrid black whip would snap and she would hurry to gather more stones.

She shook her head slightly. She didn’t want to think about the Foreman now. She was going to think about the King. What would he be like? Would he really like her? Cal said that he would. Cal said that he loved children. He wanted all the children in the whole world to grow up in the Kingdom!

As if he knew what she was thinking, Cal’s arms tightened around her. “See those steps?” He said, pointing towards a spiraling staircase.
“Yes.” She responded.
“Those steps lead to the King.” He smiled down at her. “Do you want to go see him?”
Emby looked down at her grimy dirty hands, still holding tight to the stones. “Should I wash up first?”
“No.” Cal assured her. “You needn’t wait a moment longer. The King is waiting to see you. We sent a messenger to say you were coming.”
Emby turned brilliant green eyes to her rescuer, “He’s waiting just for me?”

“Yes, little one.” Cal smiled and kicked his feet free from the stir-ups. He jumped lightly to the ground and reached up for his rock-laden charge. “Today I will take you to the King but after this, you can go visit him any time you want.”
“Really?” Emby felt shaky. Everything was just too beautiful. Too wonderful. It couldn’t last, could it?

The two started up the steps. After the first few, Emby had to stop and catch her breath. Cal looked at her, his heart going out to the little waif. “Perhaps I can help you.” He told her, then swung her up in his strong arms. “After you see the King, it’ll get easier.”  
Emby held fast, her arms wrapped around Cal’s neck. She was going to see the King!

When they reached the top, he set her down and pointed toward a big brown door. “Knock here.” He told her. He stood watching at a distance as she lifted her hand, that was still clutching the rocks, and banged slightly on the door.
 It swung inward. He was there. Tall. Beautiful. Strong. His eyes filled with tender compassion. The gold band around his head. It was the King.

She trembled. He pulled her into his arms. “Emberlyn.” His voice sounded like trickling water.
“M-m-my n-name is E-emby.” She stuttered out.
“Not anymore.” The King smiled. He led her into his chambers and sat her down on a big cushioned chair. “When children come to the kingdom, they get new names.”

“Really?” Emby looked at him. The King wasn’t anything like she had thought but he was more than anything she could have longed for. But what was he doing? There was a big basin of water on the floor. He knelt in front of her chair and slowly untied the shoes on her feet. Weren’t people suppose to kneel before the King? Why was he kneeling in front of her?

“Yes.” The King lifted her dirty sore feet and set them in the basin of water. He slowly began washing them with a sweet smelling ointment. Never had anything felt so wonderful.
“Your new name is Emberlyn.” He looked up at her. “A new name for a new life.”

———————–

 
One day, in the middle of the afternoon, Lyn happened to be out walking. She rarely walked because the weight of the stones was often too much, but this day she had gathered enough strength to meander down the road beside her cottage. She suddenly came upon a small child. Usually she would avoid children but this time she stopped to talk with the girl. After a few pleasantries the girl, whose name was Takara, suddenly jumped and said, “Oh, dear, I must be off. My father is heading out to war and I’m to go along.”

“You go to war?” Lyn questioned, surprised at the thought of such a darling child fighting in battle.
“Oh, my, yes!” Takara responded. Her eyes sparkled and she laughed. “My father tells me that my gifts are ‘invaluable’.” She paused and tilted her head slightly. “What does ‘invaluable’ mean? He told me but I always forget.”

“Why, invaluable means beyond value. Priceless.” Lyn answered, even more surprised. To think that a child’s work during war could be priceless. What could such a little girl possibly do to help anything?

“Yes!” Takara laughed. “That’s what he says. My gifts are priceless. He hates to go to war without me.” She suddenly reached over and hugged the older woman around the stones that hung about her. “Have a good day! I best be off!” Then turned and disappeared down the road.

Lyn stood for some time staring after the girl then gathering her strength she wandered back to her cottage on the edge of the kingdom.

For some reason she couldn’t think of anything besides that little girl. Takara. What kind of name was that? Oh, yes, precious. It meant precious. To think! To have a father like hers! One that cherished his daughter enough to name her “precious”.

Dark thoughts came then. Ones that Lyn hadn’t thought of for years… but ones that were settled there, right on the edge of her mind. My father didn’t love me. My father left me at an enemy village. My father gave me piles and piles of stones to carry. She could still hear his voice. “Don’t drop the stones, Emby. You aren’t useful for anything but carrying stones, so at the very least, don’t drop them!” And then he had left her there, in that dark fearful place.

She stared at the stones in her hands, the ones around her neck. Her pockets were bulging. Some days they seemed, oh, so heavy. To think of going off to war carrying all these stones. Impossible.

The thoughts were disturbing so she pushed them away and continued through her morning. The days began to blend together again. Mornings, gathering stones, struggling, always the heaviness, then night again.

It was quite some time before she gathered the strength to walk again. When she did Takara was at the same spot, waiting for her, but this time she wasn’t alone.

Lyn stopped and began to turn and leave but Takara called out to her. “Lyn! Oh, Lyn!” And ran scampering up to her. 

 “Lyn, I’m so glad that you came today! I brought my mother to meet you.” Takara gripped her hand and pulled her towards the woman standing by the road. As they went a stone dropped but Lyn never noticed, she was too busy staring with astonishment at the woman.

Everyone in the whole kingdom knew her. Alana. The beautiful warrior-wife of Aldwin, the King’s right hand man. Of course, Lyn thought, it would be them who had such a precious child. They rescue children, after all.

“Hello!” Alana called out. She came walking toward them. She spun her belt slightly, pushing the sword that was strapped to her waist out of the way so she could hug Lyn around the stones. “My name is Alana. What’s yours?”

“L-lyn.” Came the stuttered response. To think, Alana herself had given her a hug!

“Lyn…Hm…” Alana said, smiling. “I don’t know that I recognize that name. Do you know my husband, Aldwin?”

For the first time in a long while, Lyn smiled. “Yes.” She said confidently, “I do.” Then she laughed a bit. “Kind of. I mean, when I was little he rescued me from the enemy and brought me to the kingdom.”

“Really?” Alana leaned back slightly, as she tilted her head to the side. “I thought that I knew about all the children he’s rescued, but I don’t remember one named Lyn.” She shrugged and threw Lyn a blinding smile. “I guess I was wrong. It’s so wonderful to meet you.”

“Well, I, uhm…” Lyn stuttered again. “That’s not my real name.”
“Oh?” Alana looked at her, waiting.
“You have a different name?” Takara exclaimed. She jumped up and down slightly. “I know lots of people with two names! The King told me that’s because some people aren’t born in the kingdom and when they come he loves to give them new names.”

Alana placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “I see,” She nodded, “That’s why I didn’t recognize the name. I think I know who you are now.” Her loving gaze took in the heavy stones. “Emberlyn.”

Lyn nodded. “Yes.” She smiled slightly. “That’s my name. It has been so long since anyone called me that. Years and years.”

“But why?” Takara questioned, “I like that name! Emberlyn.” She laughed. “Why do you call yourself Lyn?”

Lyn looked down at the beautiful child. How could one explain that Emberlyn was the name of something pretty and delightful and she was neither of those things?
“It just,” Lyn paused. “Well, it just didn’t seem to fit me so well.” She said sadly.

 

Alana shook her head. “Nonsense.” She gave the younger woman a sparklingly beautiful smile. “It fits you perfectly.”
“Why do you carry all those stones?” Takara asked.
“Takara.” Alana spoke firmly. “You must not be rude.”
“Oh, Mama, I wasn’t being rude. I just wondered.” Takara looked innocently at her Mother.

“It’s okay,” Lyn smiled softly, “I carry them because that’s my job.”

“Your job is to carry rocks?” Takara looked doubtful. “That’s a funny job. My job is to watch for wounded children when we go to war. I like that job a lot better.”

“I suppose that would be a nicer job.” Lyn shrugged. “But someone has to carry the rocks.”
“Where do you carry them to?” Takara asked.
“Well, no where.” Lyn looked surprised. “I just carry them.”

Alana suddenly stood up straight. “Oh, dear,” She said, “I’m so sorry, Lyn, but we need to be off. I just heard the trumpet sound. The King is having a celebration tonight and we must get ready!” She turned slightly then spun back around, “Why don’t you come with us?” She offered.

Lyn stared down the long road that led to the center of the city. “I don’t think I can walk that far.” She said. For the first time in years, she felt sad at the thought. It would be wonderful to see the King again. It had been such a long, long time.

“Why don’t you leave the rocks here?” Takara asked. “Then it will be easier.”
“Oh, no.” Lyn said quickly. “I can’t ever set down the rocks.”

Takara started to respond but Alana put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Okay, Emberlyn.” She said, “But if you change your mind, know that we’d love to see you there.” They turned to go and Alana looked toward her again, “And I think that the King would love to see you too.”

The walk back to the cottage seemed terribly long to Lyn. The weight of the stones made her feet drag. In the far distance she could hear the sounds of trumpets and tambourines. It reminded her of the last time she had seen the King. How her heart ached at the thought! Why had she stopped going to see him?

Oh, yes. The steps. Sixty-four steps. They were just too many for her to climb with all the stones weighing her down.
She remembered his sad eyes that day at the celebration. “Emberlyn,” He had said quietly to her, “Please, give me your stones.”

She had tried to explain. She told him she couldn’t. “All I’m good for is carrying stones.” She said, just like her father and the Foreman had told her. “If I give you my stones then I won’t be good for anything!”

But the King hadn’t understood. Why, oh, why did he want her stones? A person who wasn’t good for anything got shut out of the village! They didn’t get food or a place to sleep when it rained. No, Lyn couldn’t risk being shut out of the kingdom. Where would she go? Back to the Foreman? No. She had to keep hold of her rocks.

Still, tears were dripping down her cheeks by the time she reached the cottage. She sat on the front step, exhausted.
She rested her head on her arms and wept. How her heart ached! “Oh, my King!” She cried, “How I miss you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” The voice sounded like trickling water.

Lyn lifted her head. Her gaze met the King’s.

“Emberlyn.” The King spoke softly. He sat beside her on the steps and wrapped his arms around her. “My dear, dear Emberlyn.” After a moment he leaned back and said softly, “My precious pretty jewel.”

Lyn pulled away slightly. “Oh, my King. I am not a jewel. I am not pretty. I am not precious. All I’m good for is carrying stones.”

“No!” The King’s voice was loud and commanding. Lyn jumped slightly, almost afraid. “That is not truth, Emberlyn. The Foreman told you that. Your father told you that. But I did not. You are lovely. You are precious. You are my jewel.” He took hold of her face and lifted her chin until their eyes met. “I sent my warriors to rescue you so you could be free. Yet, still, even in my Kingdom, you live like a slave, carrying your stones everywhere you go.”

He stopped talking and great tears streamed down his face as he wept.

At the sight of his tears, she forgot her own. “Oh, my King. I only carry the stones so that I won’t be sent away! I could not bear it if I was never to see you again.”

He moaned, as if in pain. “Emberlyn. Emberlyn. Don’t you see? The stones are the only things that keep you from me. When they are gone, there will be nothing between us. Never will you be cast out of my Kingdom. Never.”

Then slowly, deliberately, he held out his hand. She stared at it. Her whole body shook with fear. She lifted an arm and looked at the rock, held so tightly in her fist. She thought of that first time she had seen the King, when he had knelt before her and washed her feet. She remembered Cal’s words, as they rode on his big horse toward the castle. There aren’t any slaves in the Kingdom. The King serves the people and the people serve the King. And she realized then that while she had been served by the King, she had never done anything to serve him. Deep, overwhelming sorrow and love welled up inside her. She would do anything for him. Even…even give him the stones. Even if it meant that she wouldn’t be good for anything. Even if she DID have to leave the Kingdom. If he asked, she would give.

She opened her palm and let the stone fall from her fingers. She emptied her pockets. Took the rocks from around her neck. With every stone that was placed in His hands, she felt the fear lessen.

When it was over, she was surprised at how wonderful she felt. So light. For the first time in her life, she thought perhaps she could run for miles. She felt… free.

The King smiled at her. The stones filled a bag at his feet. He stood, lifting the bag. “Come to the celebration with me.” He reached a hand toward her. “Be my guest of honor.”

She placed her hand in his for the first time. Always before there had been a rock keeping her hand from his but not anymore. She laughed. A beautiful tingling laugh.

———————–

They climbed the stairs together. He held the bag of rocks and she was amazed at how much easier it was. When they arrived at the King’s chambers, she found he had prepared a gown for her. It was clean and fresh. Not dirty with sand in the pockets like her old clothing.

When she met up with him again, clothed in her new white gown, he smiled. “For you.” He said, slipping a chain over her head. She stared at the beautiful sapphire that glittered in the sunlight.

She gave him rocks and he gave her jewels. Why did I stay away so long? “Oh, my King…” She whispered.

“The celebration is about to begin.” He told her, his eyes glittering with a marvelous secret. “Come.” Hand in hand they descended the steps.

The streets were crowded with people. When the King came into view, the voices rose majestically. 

 “Hail to the King!
  The Mighty and Glorious
   Loving and Victorious
    Wonderful King of all!”

The King placed a kiss on her forehead, then jumped up onto the platform in the middle of the square. He lifted his arm, as if in victory. The crowd shouted back, “To the King! To the Kingdom!”

Emberlyn found herself shouting with them as the singing and dancing began. She lost herself for awhile in the joy of being surrounded with people who knew and loved the King.

“Lyn!” A small voice called. Several people turned to look as Takara went charging down the street and launched herself in Emberlyn’s arms. “You don’t have your stones anymore!” She said, laughing.

Emberlyn smiled. “No.” She said, softly, “No, I do not. I gave them to the King.” She shrugged her shoulders, “He wanted them and who am I to keep anything from the King?”

“Oh, Emberlyn,” A warm voice said, “That’s wonderful.”

The two girls spun to see Alana standing behind them, a great smile on her face. “Yes.” Emberlyn responded. “Yes, it is wonderful.”

“You have no idea how wonderful.” The King said, appearing beside them. “Because I have a job just for her.”
“You do?!” Takara giggled and wrapped her arms around the King’s legs. “I knew there must be a better job than carrying stones.”

“The celebration today is to announce a new commander.” The King said. “He will be going into battle and I think that Emberlyn will be a great asset to his company.” He reached down and ruffled Takara’s hair.

“A new commander?” Alana said, a joyful light in her eyes.
“You want me to go to war?” Emberlyn questioned, suddenly fearful.
“Who is it?” Takara asked, jumping up and down in excitement.

The King smiled and shook his head, holding up his hands. “Just wait, you will find out soon enough!”  
Trumpet’s sounding turned their attention toward the castle gate. The thundering of horses could be heard on the bridge that led to the castle and the call came out.

 “King’s business!”
 “What business?”
 “The saving of the lost!”

Takara tugged on Emberlyn’s skirt. “That’s my Papa.” She said, with a big smile.
“Yes.” Emberlyn responded. She remembered his voice.

The gates fell and the band of warriors came through. Emberlyn felt tears prick her eyes. She knew them. All of them. They were the ones who had saved her. She remembered the light glinting off their swords, lifted high above their heads in victory. If only they could know that she was finally free.

Her gaze filtered over them, searching for the one… Oh, there he was! And, why, the King was headed toward him!

The two men stood before each other, each with a hand on the other’s shoulder. They spoke for a moment and a hush fell over the crowds of people. Then Cal knelt before the King.

“Commander, arise!” The King’s voice echoed through the courtyard and the people shouted with joy as the two men embraced.
It took a moment for Emberlyn to realize what it all meant. Cal was the new commander. It was Cal’s company that she would be going with. Fear suddenly vanished. She remembered his strong arms carrying her up the steps to the King’s chambers. She would be safe with him.

“Emberlyn!” The King’s voice rose above the crowds. She let go of Takara’s hand and made her way to the King’s side. She lifted her eyes to meet Cal’s. He looked older but still the same in so many ways. If only he could know the gift he had given her.

But, what was the King doing? He took hold of her hand and placed it in Cal’s. Then he closed his over top. “My children.” He spoke quietly. “You shall no longer be alone. You shall always be together.”

“But,” Emberlyn stuttered, shocked at her sudden marriage. “I..I.. am not worthy…”
Cal lifted a finger to her lips. “Shhh…” He said. His eyes were warm and damp. Was he crying? “I have waited for you for such a long, long time.”

As she looked in his eyes, she knew it was true. He loved her. She looked at the King and saw the joy on his face. “I have work for you to do.” He paused and looked at them both pointedly, “Together.”

———————

Their first battle had been fierce but victory had finally been found. Emberlyn walked over to where her husband sat astride his horse. He reached a hand down and pulled her up in front of him.

“It is time to go home.” He said, wearily.
“Yes.” She responded. How wonderful it would be to see the King again! To spend some time with Alana and Takara.

“This reminds me of the first trip we made together.” Cal said, pulling her against him. “Only then you were but a tiny girl.” He laughed. “I’m glad you grew up.”

She turned her head to look at him and smiled. To think that she had held onto her stones for so long! And all the while, the King had such marvelous plans for her.

They were just starting across the fields, the other warriors following behind, when she saw her. Just a tiny speck in the distance but something about the figure seemed familiar.

“Cal,” She said, sitting up straighter. “Go that way.” She pointed and he turned the horse.

When they were within a few yards, he pulled the stallion to a stop and she slid to the ground. The figure leaned away from her, but seemed unable to run. Every step that took her closer, made her heart ache more. It was only a small girl but all her pockets were stuffed with stones. They were draped about her neck. They were gripped tightly in her hands.

“Hello.” Emberlyn said softly, dropping to her knees in front of the girl. “My name is Emberlyn. What’s yours?”
“Sari.” The child said.

Emberlyn smiled, a warm smile of love. She saw Cal kneel down beside her. She remembered the King’s words to her…I have a job just for you. Of course. Her green eyes met Sari’s pale blue ones. “Sari,“ She said, “Would like to meet the King?”
 

Cal and Emberlyn fought many battles for the King and they grew in strength and beauty. Over the years, they often  could be seen, climbing the steps toward the King’s chambers with a stone-laden child in their arms.

Alana (A Parable)

This parable is the first in a series of tales about a mythical Kingdom ruled by one great King and maintained by His vast army of Warriors. Each person serves in an appointed area and each lives to give honor and glory to their King. Their jobs are simple: bring as many into the Kingdom as possible.

 Written especially for girls, these tales are written to focus on truths that can be translated into our lives today. For the King! For the Kingdom!

 

“Alana”

 
a Tale of true love

In the kingdom there were many types of people and the King loved them all. There were a few, however, that learned to know and love the King more than the others. If this person was a man, more often than not, he was made into a Commander of the King’s army. And if it was a woman, she was made into a Warrior-Girl and welcomed in the battle ranks. It was the dream of every Warrior-Girl to marry a Commander and become a Warrior-Woman for the King, serving him with everything she had. But that decision was not hers to make. She had to wait for the King’s leading, for she served him first, above all else.

The sun was just beginning to rise over the east side of the mountain when a rider came thundering up to the castle gate. “King’s business!” He called out in a loud voice.

“What business?” Came the answering cry.

“The saving of the lost!” The rider responded.

Immediately the gate fell with a loud thud against the hard packed earth and the rider galloped across it. He made his way directly to the stables and left his horse in the care of the stable hand.
The stairway to the King’s chambers was winding with sixty-four stone steps. By the time the rider reached the top he was winded but he refused to stop and rest. It was obvious that he was a personal friend of the King for he went directly to the door and knocked. The door was answered by a servant and the rider was led into the King’s private drawing room.

“Aldwin!” The King greeted him with pleasure. “How fared the journey?”

“Not well.” Aldwin replied with a shake of his head. “There were many of the enemy setting in ready attack. I warned the men but you know how they forget or get distracted.”

“I’m sure the enemy supplied the distraction as well as the direct attack.”
“The enemy is the master of distractions.” Aldwin replied.

“What was it this time?” The King asked.
Aldwin flushed slightly and glanced at the floor.

“Women?” The King questioned.
“Yes.” Aldwin mumbled in reply.
“And you too were distracted for a time.” The King continued.
Aldwin raised pained eyes to the King. “I get so frustrated with the men, but, yet, I fall for the same things.”

“I know, my son.” The King placed his hands upon the young man’s shoulder. “I know these battles are hard. But remember, if you have no battle then we cannot have victory. There is more to this war than just the physical attack. If you were able to turn away to come back here then you have found victory over the enemy.”

“I wish it was that simple, my King.” Aldwin looked away, “I am no warrior if I can be so easily distracted.” He turned his eyes back to his King. “Perhaps you should find someone more suited to command my company.”

“I chose you.” The King said simply. He paused for a moment, then questioned, “Was there any success?”
Aldwin’s eyes lit up and a smile appeared. “Four children were saved. The company should arrive with them tomorrow. They are beautiful and they cannot wait to see you.”

The King smiled. “Children to raise in the kingdom.” He patted Aldwin’s back. “Well done.”
Aldwin nodded and started to leave the room when the King called his name. “Yes, my King?” He questioned.

“Dine with me tonight. I have something to speak to you about.”
Aldwin nodded and made his way out of the room and down the stairway.

—————————————————-

The meal was half over before the King turned his attention to Aldwin, who was sitting quietly across from him. “You must be curious as to what I must speak to you about.” The King said, his gray eyes sparkling in the lamp light.

“I am but you know that I love to just be with you.” Aldwin responded.
“I have decided to arrange a marriage for you.” The King said.
Aldwin choked on the piece of bread in his mouth then swallowed quickly and reached for a glass of water. After he had washed it down he finally found his voice to reply, “A what?”

The King laughed. “Abashi!” An aged warrior sitting a few tables away turned.
“Yes, my King?”
“Tell Aldwin that I have decided to arrange a marriage for him. He does not believe that he is hearing me right.” The King’s voice rang with laughter, a joyful laughter as if he was holding the most wondrous secret.
Abashi laughed in return and relayed the message to the shocked  young Commander.

The King reached across the table and placed a hand upon Aldwin’s, “My son, you have faced many wars alone. You have been faithful. No longer will you go to war without someone by your side.”

“Who is she?” Aldwin finally managed to ask.

“She is a trusted warrior, like yourself. She has done battle in her father’s company for many years but he time has come for her to join your cause.” The King paused and sat back. He looked at his young warrior with gentle loving eyes. “You two will do great work for my kingdom,” He paused and winked, “together.” He raised his glass and pronounced, “You shall meet her on the morn!”

“And we shall marry…” Aldwin left the sentence hanging, disbelief still clouding his face.
The King laughed again. “I do not think you will want to wait even one hour after you lay eyes on her.” At that the older men at the table broke into quiet laughter as if they were privy to a wonderful something that Aldwin had yet to discover.

—————————————

Streaks of light were just beginning to make their way across the dark sky when the wedding trumpets began to sound. Standing at the window of the King’s chambers, a young maiden watched the swirling pink and oranges wind across the skyline. She was dressed in a simple white linen garment that hung to her ankles. A sword was strapped to her waist by a worn leather belt and her long dark tresses were braided into a single braid down her back. A rose was held in her hand and her bare feet were nervously tapping the floor boards.
“I do not think I am ready.” She said suddenly.

The King glanced up from the letter he was writing and smiled at her. “After all this pestering to change companies and fight for a new Commander?” His eyes twinkled in amusement.

“I know.” The girl sighed. She left her place by the window and stood before her King. “I am excited. I just… well, I don’t feel very much like a bride.”
“You will feel like a bride when your warrior is looking upon you.” The King assured her. “But, until then, perhaps this will help.” Reaching into his pocket he pulled forth a sparkling emerald that dangled at the end of a gleaming silver chain. The maiden’s eyes widen as the King continued, “This is the jewel that I made from the rocks you’ve given me over the years. It was molded and fired until it shown pure enough to worthy of a bride.”

“I did not know those rocks were worth anything, they were so very ugly.” She took the jewel that he offered and looked at it closely.

“The rocks you gave me were not worth anything. It was only after they were molded together and all the impurities burned away that there was anything of real value.” He took the chain from her hands and slipped it over her head. The jewel nestled itself upon her chest as if it had been waiting for the day that it could be worn publicly. “The children will like it.”

The maiden’s eyes lifted in question. “The children?”
The King smiled. “Of course. Did I not tell you that your husband-to-be saves lost children?” His eyes twinkled. “I suppose I forgot to mention it.”

The girl grabbed the King’s hand. “You are not serious!” She exclaimed, excitement covering her features.
“Indeed, I am. He goes to battle to bring them here to my kingdom. He is a strong warrior but he needs protection. The enemy is beginning to break through his barriers. That is why I chose you to fight with him. The children will love you and you will help protect him from the enemy.”

The girl began to laugh and flung herself into the King’s arms. “Oh, my King, you are so good to me!” She buried her head in his chest and whispered, “Children… I get to help save children!” She stayed wrapped in his arms until a knock sounded a the door and her father’s voice was heard calling her name.

———————————

The people were dancing and singing as they traveled down the streets of the kingdom. Laughter filled the air and every eye was pealed for the sight of Aldwin’s horse. When it rounded the head of the street the singing rose into a joyful shout of exclamation.

From his view on the back of the stallion, who was prancing nervously from all the excitement, Aldwin could see the home of his wife-to-be.  If nothing else, the most obvious sign were the roses. Every shade of every color, they lay in piles surrounding the doorway. His stomach leapt unexpectedly as he realized that he would soon lay eyes upon his bride. He began to shout the name the King had given him, the name that had reverberated within his heart from the moment it was spoken to him.

“Alana!” His voice grew in strength and volume as he drew closer to the doorway. “Alana! Alana!”
He came to a stop in front of her and house and slid to the ground. He looked up just as the door began to open and caught his breath. She was more beautiful than he could have imagined. Oh, she wasn’t beautiful in the ways of the women that the enemy sent to distract the warriors, no, she was beautiful in the way that made a warrior want to fight!

Her face showed forth an innocence that demanded protection. Yet, the sword that was strapped to her side was well-worn, obviously used in many battles. Around her neck hung a jewel that proclaimed to the world that the King found her worthy of great honor. There was a glowing light that seemed to sparkle out of her eyes and Aldwin knew that light. It was the same light that glowed from his own eyes. The light that came from spending time with the King.

The girl’s father stepped out from behind her. He took hold of his daughter’s hand and placed it within the young warriors. Holding the two hands together he proclaimed in a loud voice, “Before you all as witnesses, I now give the responsibility of my daughter, Alana, to this man, Aldwin. She will leave my company and fight with him from now on. Her protection is no longer to come from me but from him.”

As the words were being spoken Aldwin felt the weight of the responsibility fall upon his shoulders. It was a heavy weight but a welcome one. He smiled at his bride and felt warmth fill him as she smiled back.

“My children.” Aldwin and Alana looked up to see that her father’s position had been replaced by the King. “You shall no longer be alone. You shall always be together.” With that pronouncement the crowds began to cheer and celebration burst out through the streets.

The people picked up the roses and tearing the fragrant petals from the stems they tossed them in the air over the newlyweds. Aldwin, still gripping his new wife’s hand, drank in the sight of her covered with rose petals. It seemed to him that with each moment she grew more beautiful than before.

The King’s arms encircled them and they stood for some time as a threesome, embracing in the midst of wild celebration. Then the King quietly led the newlyweds away. They walked down the back streets and entered a small chapel at the base of the King’s Chambers. The building was lit with hundreds of candles that were scattered around on the floor with a path that led to the front. They followed the King down the path and sat down together at the altar.

“That was the celebration of your marriage.” He explained. “But this is where you will be joined together.” He leaned forward onto his knees and spoke in earnest, “The enemy will try to separate you as soon as you walk out those doors. He is the master of distractions, as you both well know. Unless you are truly joined here, you will not stay joined on the battlefield. If you ever do become separated, do not try to find each other while out alone. Rather, I ask that you come back here to this place. This altar was made for the two of you. No others will ever come here except me. I will always be here.” He turned to Aldwin, “You, my son, have fought many battles. You are a seasoned warrior. You are one of my mightiest defenders. Alana is your responsibility on the battlefield. Protect her. Fight for her. Listen to her. Love her. If the enemy is trying to distract you then tell your bride so she can stand guard with you.”

His gaze turned to Alana. “You, also, have fought many wars.  Your sword will now be used to protect your husband from the enemy’s attacks. Follow him faithfully just as you followed your father. At times you may have different ideas on how you should proceed. When that time comes, you must defer to him. If he is wrong, he will answer to me when you return. Remember, your job is to aid him in battle. Make sure your sword if always used to help and never to hinder him.”

The King suddenly stood and smiled down at the two.  Their eyes were wide as they tried to remember all that he had told them. He took a step away from them, then added, “Remember, Aldwin, your name means ‘protector’, You are a protector of my kingdom and now you are a protector of your bride.” His gaze turned. “Your name, Alana, means ‘beautiful’. You have used your beauty to further my kingdom and your beauty will now be used to guard your husband as well.” He turned and began to walk back through the candles.

“Do not leave us.” Aldwin called out.

The King turned and smiled. “I will still be here.” He chuckled slightly, “But you now have a bride to give attention to.” Aldwin looked confused for a moment then understanding dawned. The King stood in the shadows of the doorway and smiled again as he watched the warrior-groom kiss his radiant bride.

———————————-

Alana wiped away the sweat that trickled down her brow. Her sword weighed heavy in her hand and she wished to set it down but she dared not. She looked over her shoulder to where her husband continued to fight fiercely, standing between her and the enemy. Her moment of peace that had been provided by her husband’s valiant attack on the enemy was suddenly over and she lifted her sword high once again as she moved into her place beside him.
After what seemed like hours of fighting, she drew a ragged breath and glanced around her. Before she could even collect her scattered thoughts, one of the enemy lifted a sword toward Aldwin. With a war-cry she spun and raised her sword to deflect the blow. The enemy retreated but another attacked.

“Oh my King,” Her heart whispered, “I do not know how long I can stand this. I am too tired. Our work is useless. We are not accomplishing anything. I am going to fail. I am no warrior.”  Her eyes fell downward as the distracting thoughts continued to fill her head. One of the enemy saw her look away and threw a knife from across the battlefield that lodged itself into her shoulder causing her sword to drop. Crying out in pain she crumpled to the ground.

Aldwin felt fear suddenly grip his heart. With a roar of anger and fierce protectiveness he fought the enemy away and lifted his wife to carry her away from the battle. Once they were safe on the King’s side he gently set her down. She was staring at him in shock, her eyes wide and filled with tears.

“What were you thinking?” He asked her, his face red with frustration.
Her face grew ashen and she whispered, “That I am no warrior.”
“You were thinking about yourself?!” Aldwin threw her sword down that he had been gripping so tightly. “You know that was just the enemy! Why did you give in!?”
Tears streamed down Alana face. “I don’t know.” Was all she could whisper in response. Closing her eyes tightly she did the only thing she knew to do. She called for her King.

—————————————————–

When the King arrived Aldwin was seated with his head in his hands while his wife was laying on a mat, her shoulder bandaged but still bleeding. The King stood for a moment looking at them his eyes reflecting the sadness in his heart. Aldwin noticed him first and stood.

“How goes the battle?” The King asked.
Aldwin’s face hardened. “Not well.” He bit out. Anger showed but the King could see the pain and fear that was etched on the young warrior’s face.
“What happened?”

“She let herself get distracted.” Aldwin replied, his voice still hard, causing his words to sound accusatory. “She was thinking about herself instead of the children we are fighting for.”
“I see.” The King replied. “And where were you?”
“Fighting!” Aldwin answered in exasperation.

The King’s only response was a raise of the eyebrows. He made his way over to where the warrior’s wounded bride lay. With gentle hands he unwrapped the wound to examine the depth of it.

Alana’s eyes opened and she smiled through tears as she recognized the King. “I knew you would come.” She whispered. “How did you get here so fast?”
“I was already on my way.”
“How did you know?”
“I know the enemy well. Aldwin and you are no small threat to him. I knew he would not rest until he had come between you in some way.”

“But this is our tenth battle now. Why didn’t he try this before?”
“He did. But for many months the other warriors fought him off before he reached you. They have been distracted with other things now and the time has come for you and Aldwin to become stronger.”

“We are not stronger, we have failed.”
“You know better than that, Alana. It is failure that makes one stronger. For once you have failed in one area you will not fail so easily again.”

“Why is Aldwin so angry with me?” Alana asked, her hurting gaze following her husband as he paced nearby.
“Why do you think?” The King returned the question.

Alana’s eyes fell for a moment and when she lifted them they met her husband’s from across the courtyard. Before she could answer the King stood and told her, “I think the two of you need to meet back at the chapel. There you can work out your differences and troubles. That is where you should have gone to begin with.”

The trip was long and dreary. Aldwin continued to fight his anger and Alana continued to nurse her wounds. It was a miserable party that arrived at the city gates.
“King’s business!” Aldwin cried.
“What business?” Came the reply.

“The saving of the lost!” He answered. The gates swung down with a crash and the two entered the familiar streets of home. A still limping Alana walked proudly beside her husband, not asking for help but groaning inwardly at the pain in each step. Aldwin could see the beads of perspiration on his wife’s brow but he too marched with some pride and did not offer any assistance.

Neither said a word as they walked down the center of town. It was the very street that Aldwin had ridden on their wedding day. How quickly time had passed. So much had happened since that day. Each thought of the battles they had won together. They remembered the children they had brought back to the kingdom. Dozens of them, lifted from the streets filled with fear and heartache and taken to the Kingdom where they found safety and joy.

The two arrived at the chapel. The door was open. The candles were lit. The King, who had left to ride ahead of them, was there. Under the King’s watchful gaze both felt suddenly foolish for their pride. Alana turned to ask for help just as Aldwin offered his arm. The two made their way slowly through the candles to the front of the room and took their seats on either side of their King.

“I’m sorry.” Alana whispered suddenly. “I’m sorry I let myself get distracted. I should have been thinking about others instead of myself. If my mind hadn’t been focused on me then I would have seen the knife long before it hit me.”

The King leaned forward to look her in the eye. “I forgive you, Alana.” He touched her face, “You have been a brave warrior for my kingdom for many years. You know full well the danger of thinking of ones self. Don’t be discouraged, but let this wound be a reminder of the importance of this fact.”

As the King was speaking, Aldwin suddenly fell forward, his head in his hands, “No, my King, no. It was my fault.”  The two turned toward the young man. One in surprise and one with quiet understanding. “I knew she was fighting hard. I knew she was tired. I should have been watching. I should have seen the knife. It is my job to protect her and I didn’t.” He turned toward Alana, “Forgive me, Alana, for not doing what I promised to do. For not protecting you.”

The two fell together, each weeping softly. They clung to one another and felt the King’s arms encircle them. “My dear children,” He said softly, “May you begin now, to understand. This then, is the reason I instituted marriage in my Kingdom. So that you might learn and grow.” He drew them apart turned toward Aldwin, “You are a Commander in my army. This is but a lesson to make you stronger. As you protect your wife, you protect yourself.”

Alana gripped the King’s arms. “And me?” She questioned.

“You are a Warrior-Woman. The wife of a commander.” He smiled gently. “Do not forget your calling. You were not made to fall prey to the knives of self-pity. You were made to assist your husband in saving children.”

The three turned, as one, to look out the doorway to the streets of the Kingdom. A young girl, rescued just weeks before went skipping by, pausing to wave at her favorite people.

“Remember why you are here.” The King said, softly, “You are not here for yourselves, you are here for me. To do my work. There are so many who are lost. I need you to help me find them.”

Aldwin turned to face the other two. “Yes, my King.” He said, bowing his head in reverence.
Alana slid to his side, wrapping her hand around her husband’s arm. “Yes, my King.” She whispered. Raising her eyes, her gaze met Aldwin’s.
He was a Commander. She was a Warrior-Woman. They were servants of the King.

There were many battles in the days to come. Many times Alana and Aldwin failed and the Enemy’s attacks left them wounded and hurting. But every battle made them stronger, every wound brought them closer together and it was not long before they rose among their peers as two of the most valiant Warriors that the Kingdom had ever seen. Aldwin was known at The Protector and hundreds of children came to the Kingdom through the work of his company. Alana was known as The Beautiful and everyone smiled and acknowledged that Aldwin could not do the work the King had asked of him without her aid. Together they served the King all of their days.

The Shadow House (a parable)

Hopefully you’ll all enjoy this parable about God’s redemption and transformation of his daughters.

The Shadow House

The shadows danced across the room as the gray light faded quickly into oblivion. A whimper was heard in the closing darkness and the sound of shuffling feet. After a moment a match was lit and in the glowing light a face could be seen.

The girl holding the match was dirty and unkempt. Her brown curls hung about her face, oily and matted. Her face was covered with a multitude of tiny scars that crossed and covered each other giving her an unearthly look. She seemed to be somewhere between childhood and womanhood but it was hard to tell under the thick layer of dirt and grime. Her eyes might have been blue at one time but some kind of incredible sadness had overtaken them and the murky depths now gave out only a muted gray color.

A howling noise echoed through the house as the wind picked up speed. The slender hand holding the match shook slightly at the sound and the match dropped to the floor. Darkness consumed the room again and the whimpering returned.

“I’m scared.” A voice whispered.
“Me, too.” Another sounded in the dark room.
The girl-woman’s voice wavered, “I have no more matches.”
“Stupid!” A voice growled. “You let the only light we have go out!” The whimpering grew louder as several voices began to angrily debate whose fault it was that there was no more light.

After several minutes of anger, the fear began to set in again. The girl-woman sat down heavily in the midst of the frightened children. The smallest one whose whimpers could still be heard climbed onto her lap.

“I’m s-s-scared.” A voice repeated.
The girl-woman reached out a hand in the pitch black room and felt around until she touched the girl.

“Come, Frightened.” She said as she drew the girl over. Within a few minutes all the children in the room were pressed close together, all reaching to the touch the girl-woman.

Frightened remained curled up next to her side. Hurting, who was still whimpering softly against her chest, was snuggled in her lap. The other children, Angry, Prideful, Outcast, Wounded, Spiteful and Lonely all trying to grab onto her hands, her hair, her skirt, whatever they could reach.

The fear was so thick that one could feel it in the air. After a moment of silence Spiteful whispered in her venomous way, “Why won’t you hum that song that makes us feel better? Huh, No-Name? Do you like it when we’re afraid?”
Hurting whimpered louder and her grip on the girl-woman tightened.
Angry reached out a hand and let her fingers scratch across No-Name’s face. “You’re causing the darkness aren’t you?!” She cried, then jerked her hand back, frightened at the feel of the girl-woman’s blood under her fingers.

No-Name reached up a hand to wipe the blood away that trickled down her cheek. Instead of responding she began to softly hum a song that was etched forever upon her heart. She had heard it once, long ago. The children knew of nothing except the Shadow House but No-Name had a memory, a distant drifting memory of a voice that sounded like water rushing over rocks singing the tune that she was now humming. Although she could hum the song, the words had forever escaped her.

The soft humming caused the children to relax around her. Spiteful and Angry both quieted and snuggled in close to her. Hurting’s whimpers subsided and Frightened slumped next to her as sleep overcame them all.

When they awoke, morning had come. It wasn’t a sun-light or moon-light that shown in the morning at the Shadow House but rather a gray-light that kept the darkness from overpowering but did nothing to stop the shadow’s from dancing upon on the walls.

“I hate you!” Spiteful spat from her corner of the room. The words were directed at Outcast who was slumped in the opposite corner. “I wish you’d leave. We don’t need you here.”

No-Name sighed as Angry joined the dispute. Hurting clung to what was left of the girl-woman’s tattered skirt and Wounded sat in another corner with her head in her hands rocking back and forth muttering under her breath, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
No-name sent Frightened and Lonely out to find matches. Usually she sent Angry and Spiteful, just to get them out of the house, but today she didn’t have the energy to force them to go.

The girl-woman wiped a hand across her face then winced. The new scratch marks on her cheek were sure to leave scars. It didn’t matter to her though, for they only covered old scars from other children who had lashed out at her. 
The morning dragged on and the children became restless. No-name went to the door many times to call for Frightened and Lonely to hurry with the matches, but they didn’t come. It was nearing noon-time before she heard the pattering of their bare feet on the path. She hurried out to meet them and give them a good scolding for taking so long but stopped short when her gaze fell upon the two small girls coming toward her.

In their hands were two buckets full of matches, but more than that…they were clean! Lonely was smiling, a huge smile that showed forth white teeth and sparking blue eyes. Her usual downcast expression was gone and replaced by one of pure joy. Never had No-name seen anything like it.
And Frightened, she looked nothing like she usually did. She was walking with such assurance there seemed to be no fear in her.

No-Name’s gaze swung from one smiling child to the other. “Lonely? Frightened?” Perhaps it simply wasn’t them…perhaps it was some other children who had lost their way.

“That’s not my name anymore.” The one who used to be Frightened proclaimed. It was most certainly her voice, but never once had the girl-woman heard her say anything except, “I’m scared.” The child continued to smile as she went on, “I have a new name! It’s Confidence! And Lonely isn’t lonely anymore, she’s Beloved!”

No-Name’s face betrayed her bewilderment. “What…where….how did you get new names?”
“He gave them to us.”
“He? He, who?” No-Name questioned.
“The Deliverer.” Confidence told her. The child’s voice displayed such awe that No-Name began to feel an ache within her heart.
“The Deliverer?” She asked, “Where is this man?”
“He’s coming!” Beloved exclaimed. “He’s coming here, for you! He said he has new names for all of you too!”

No-Name spun around to look at the group of children standing at the doorway of the Shadow House. “New names…” she whispered. If only it would really happen. The dirty unkempt children crept toward her and reached their hands out to touch her as they stared at Confidence and Beloved.

Just then a sound echoed through the yard. It was a strange sound that No-Name recognized from years before. It caused her skin to tingle and the ache in her heart to throb harder. The golden laughter grew louder as the being approached.

“It’s him!” Confidence said as she started jumping up and down in excitement.

A man stepped out of the Shadow woods that bordered the yard. He was different that anyone the children had ever seen. His whole body seemed to glow with a light that didn’t just lessen the shadows but caused them to run far from him.

He walked up until he was standing before No-Name and the little girls that were hidden behind her, their eyes hurting from the light that shone from him. Even the clean girl’s took a step closer to the girl-woman, their scrubbed skin not looking near as clean compared to the Deliverer.
The man’s eyes blazed with a sparkling light as he searched until his gaze fell upon the smallest child. Little Hurting was whimpering and clinging to the girl-woman’s skirt afraid to look at the man who was glowing with light.

He lifted a hand and motioned for her to come. Hurting glanced at him but instead of going, hid further behind the girl-woman’s skirt. No-Name could see the longing in her eyes so she reached down and gave the child a slight push toward the man. As soon as Hurting took one step in his direction the man reached for her and gathered her into his arms. He rocked her back and forth whispering words of love softly in her ear.

As the light-man held the child the light began seeping from his hands that were wrapped around her. It traveled into her body and slowly her skin began to change. Patches of light began to show through the dirt then suddenly a glow of light burst out and swirled around them, hiding the two from view. In the midst of the swirling light a voice spoke. It echoed around the Shadow House, loud and commanding yet gentle and loving at the same time. “You shall no longer be called ‘Hurting’, for through me you have overcome your pain and heartache. Therefore, your name shall be ‘Overcoming One’.”

The other children watched in wonder as the light began to settle and the outline of Hurting came into view. To their amazement the little girl, now glowing in light, threw her head back and laughed. It was the same golden laughter than had come from the light-man; a precious sound that caused their hearts to beat faster with longing.

The light-man turned again toward No-Name and the children. He motioned for Outcast to come. The girl looked toward No-Name and at her nod, took a faltering step toward the man, afraid that he would turn her away. Instead he rushed to her and lifted her high in his arms. “My child.” He said in a voice loud enough that all could hear. The transformation began again and the voice in the glow of light proclaimed, “You shall no longer be called, ‘Outcast’ , for I have accepted you. Instead you will be known as ‘Chosen’, for I have chosen you as my own.”

One by one the children slipped from No-Name’s arms and clung to the Deliverer as he transformed them into new children. Angry became Joyfulness. Spiteful turned into Caring. Wounded became Healer.

The last child to come from her hiding place behind the girl-woman was Prideful. She hung back, her eyes longing to run to him, but her stubbornness keeping her there. She refused to move until No-name took her by the arm and marched her over to the light-man. He smiled at the child and embracing her in the swirls of light, he transformed her into Loving.

As the two of them stepped apart, both glittering with sparkles of light, the Deliverer turned his gaze to No-Name’s face. At that moment she felt a greater fear than she ever had before. She realized that while the other children had names that were being changed, she had no name at all.

Two tears welled up in her eyes. She knew that she could not be transformed because she was no one and it made her heart break within her. As the tears slid down her scarred cheeks, a hand reached out and caught them. The Deliverer who had waited for each of the children to come to him, did not wait for No-Name. He reached out and pulled her into his arms.

“What is the matter?” He asked, his mouth close to her ear. The sound had dropped to a musical tone that struck a chord within No-Name’s heart. It reminded her of something…someone from long ago.

She kept her head buried deep in his chest and whispered in complete shame, “I have no name.” She stepped back from him and looked up at his beautiful face. In that moment she remembered her own scars. Horror filled her as the man lifted his hand and gently rubbed his finger across her scarred cheek.

“I have many names.” He said, “I will give you one of mine.”
“What…” She paused as if unsure, then collected her courage and continued, “What are your names?”
“You already know them.” The Deliverer answered. “I wrote them upon your heart long ago, before you chose to come to the Shadow House.”
“I don’t remember any names.” She whispered, sadness filling her. How could she have forgotten this wonderful man’s names?
“I will tell you one. The one I am giving to you.” The light-man held the girl-woman’s face in his hands and smiling into her eyes said, “My name is Beautiful One and your name shall be Beautiful One.” 

The girl-woman’s gaze fell to the ground and great shaking sobs rose within her. “I..” Her shoulders shook, “I cannot…” The light-man lifted her chin so her gaze met his. “I cannot accept that name.” The tears ran in torrents down her scarred cheeks, every one caught in the light-man’s hand that was still under her chin.

“Why not?” The Deliverer questioned.

“Because I am not beautiful.” She told him, trying to look anywhere but at the wonderful man before her. “Can’t you see the scars?”

The light-man smiled. A bright blinding smile. “Yes, I see the scars.” He answered her. “You are not beautiful now, but you will be. Just as Outcast will truly become Chosen and Angry will become Joyfulness and each one of the other children will become what I am making them as well.”
“How is this possible?” No-Name questioned, the tears slowing as her hope began to grow.
“I made you.” The light-man explained, “I can change you into what you long to be.” He paused to make sure her eyes met his, “If you let me.”

The girl-woman bit her lip for a moment then said slowly, as if explaining a great hidden secret that she barely dared to speak out loud, “I do so wish to be beautiful.”

“Then I will take your scars upon myself.” He told her.

“No!” No-Name cried out. “You cannot take the scars! You are too perfect.”
“It is because I am perfect that I can take them.” The Deliverer explained to her. “Trust me.” He gripped both of her hands in his. “Will you take my name?”

She looked beyond him for a moment, at the group of children who were watching them, their eyes bright and their bodies washed clean. “I will.” She whispered.

As she spoke a scar appeared on his cheek. She watched in wonder as it marred his perfect skin. She grimaced as he winced slightly from the pain.

A name rose within her heart. She didn’t know where it had come from but it found it’s way to her lips and in a quiet steady voice she proclaimed, “Redeemer.” The scar suddenly vanished.
Another scar came. “Mighty God.” She said, her voice growing stronger. That scar also disappeared.
Another came. “Wonderful Counselor.” It vanished.
One scar after another came and vanished as No-Name spoke the names, her voice growing louder and more lovely with each name. 
 “Everlasting Father.”
 “Prince of Peace.”
 “Author of Life.”
 “Savior.”

 “Jehovah.”
 “I AM.”
 “My Rock.”
 “My Fortress.”
Name after name, scar after scar.

When the scars finally stopped, No-Name stood trembling before the Deliverer and he spoke, “You shall no longer live without a name for I have claimed you. I have taken your scars and now I give you my name.” He paused and smiled. The girl-woman’s eyes began to shimmer and sparkle as the murky gray faded into a brilliant blue. “Beautiful One.”

The children stepped back as a bright light burst from the gray skies and surrounded the two. A beautiful melody began and drifted out from within the swirling light. The golden laughter began again, only this time it was more brilliant, more lovely than it had ever been before. The light seemed to continue forever and soon the laughter faded as a whispered conversation began between the two within the light. Sudden bursts of female giggles were often followed by the light-man’s laughter then the talking would continue. Time stood still as the two danced within the light cloud, oblivious of anything but each other.

Then the light cloud began to fade and the heavens closed. The children gasped when Beautiful One came into view. Her worn tattered dress had been replaced by a gown of pure white, so white it hurt one’s eyes to look at it. Her hair was washed clean and her blue eyes sparkled, sending rays of light onto every place her gaze landed. Her perfect skin was accented by the glow of light that swam around her.

Now there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that she was no longer a child. She was a woman. A beautiful, light-filled woman who was gazing at the man she loved. The man whose name she had taken. 
 

The light-man stepped back from her, smiling. “I have changed you.” He explained, “but it is your choice to stay this way.” He looked at the children who were gathering around Beautiful One, “The children will forget that they have been changed. You must remind them.”
“Why me?” Beautiful One questioned.
“Because, my Beautiful One, they are a part of you.” The Deliverer explained.

Beautiful One looked around at the children who were gathered close to her, smiling and laughing. Her eyes widened as she realized that they each had brown curls and dancing blue eyes, exact replica’s of her own.

“And you are now a part of me.” The light-man told her. His hand lifted to brush her smooth cheek. “I am going away for a time. I am preparing a new house. A light house. Then I will return for you.”

“Don’t leave me.” Beautiful One whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of the children who were now racing around the yard, laughing and shouting to each other.

“I will always be close to you. I am your light.” The Deliverer smiled then stepped back. 
 

Beautiful One watched as the light-man disappeared back into the Shadow Woods, but the shadows didn’t close in behind him. In fact, everywhere she looked, the shadows ran away.

The children suddenly realized that he had gone away and ran to Beautiful One, reaching for her and asking where the light-man had gone.

Beautiful One smiled as she gathered her girls close to her. “He’ll be back.” She told them, her voice ringing with confidence. He would be back.

That night, when the darkness came there was no whimpering or crying. Instead, a soft glowing light surrounded the children within the house and as they gathered together Beautiful One began to sing the promise that had been sung into her before the beginning of time,
“For the children in the shadows, light has dawned! For the people in the darkness, light has come! Light has come, in the hand of a Savior. Hope is born in the form of a man. And his name forever shall be: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of peace… and he shall reign forevermore. He shall reign forever more.”

I wish that I could tell you that never again did the children fear, never again was Beautiful One scarred; but I can’t. I can tell you, however, that despite the occasional scar, the days when Angry, Spiteful, Prideful and the others found their way back in, the light never dimmed.
And although it felt like a very long time, the Deliverer did return for his bride. Once again he caught her tears and once again he took her scars and this time… this time he promised that never again would a tear fall and never again would a scar touch her beautiful face. This time, he took her and the children with him and they traveled over time and space to the light house and there they lived happily ever after.

The End