Historical setting: 561 C.E. Gaul
The first winter snows are a blank slate for new projects and for following fresh rabbit tracks to find the tastiest roots and leaves most hidden.
Ezra and I felled a solid tree and from that I honed boards for table and benches. It is raw and warping from so much newness but it will heal with use and a few more passes of the plane and some wax. It fits right into the middle of Eve’s little room with a bench for three on each side of the board.
The caldron for remedies is on the bonfire in the garden now serving as a cooking pot for a feast when no one is begging at Eve’s door for medicines and mixes.
On this night the gathering will be in Eve’s cottage and it won’t just be Ezra and Colleta and the children – Eve and I will be there too. It will be a grand celebration! I have great hopes and a prayer.
Dear God, let joyful giggles bubble through the empty tonight. I love you too. Amen.
Eve seems to be facing my plan with uncomfortable courage and anticipation.
“You know Eve, you will have to draw your veils back to eat with us. So perhaps you will wish to sit on the same bench with Colleta and Ezra so that it will be the children and I who are across from you. I don’t mean to intrude when you are hosting us, but I just wanted to suggest that seating plan.”
“I was going to sit on the hearthstone and eat after everyone is finished.”
“That won’t due for this party, Dear Child. You are not the servant tonight — you are the host. And we are not the sick for you to feed; we are the well. We are the happy people. And tonight you will have to meet us in our joy.”
“I suppose, Papa, this is how you plan that miracle of healing of the pagan with the dreaded skin disease. The veil of your intention is thin so I too easily can see what you are trying to do. We both know it can go very badly.”
Dear God, stay close.
(Continues tomorrow)
Lazarus Ink 