Historical Setting, 629 C.E. Vosges
Hannah asked for a prayer. And I can only trust in the peaceful alternatives, the forgiveness and the ‘love of enemy’. Now I pray silently, “Dear God, lead me from this temptation to bring hurt onto this man who has hurt my child.” I add aloud, “Guide us in love and peace going forward. So be it.”
“Papa. I like that part about ‘going forward’ because we need to.”
But it is so tempting right now to make a plan to cause this man to suffer. Only Hell has room for this hatred. But I’m not sure which soul is harrowed up from the dirge of this — his or mine. Somehow, I have to continue in God’s way of love, or I will be nothing but the same brutish oaf as he.
Mater Doe gave permission to make a clearing for the feasting and the dancing behind the church. I’ve offered to help Brandell with the work of it, so we take our axes and blades, and Haberd’s farm mule back to that place. Brandell wants to cut the saplings low from the root and now he is laying the longest greenwood aside in a particular bundle.
“Are you saving these for something?”
“I was just thinking, Papa, how beautiful is this little woods. Wouldn’t this be a fine place to make a little round house of thatch?”
“Is Gaia complaining about sleeping in the loft with your nieces and nephew and anyone else who comes to visit?”
“Gaia is never one to complain. She hasn’t mentioned that.”
“Did you ask Mater Doe if she wants a near neighbor?”
“It was Mater Doe who thought of it. She told me I needed to make a house for a bride if I wanted a proper wedding. And she said she would welcome a neighbor.”
“Are you going to tell Gaia of this plan or just surprise her with her tiny house of sticks way out here two miles from everyone else?”
“You make it sound terrible Papa. But I think it might be a welcome surprise for her because while we journeyed, she often sat with the women who were weaving things to put into their own new little houses. The women were sharing their plans for their lives in new homes and no one was spinning dreams of sleeping in a loft with someone else’s children.
(Continues tomorrow)
Lazarus Ink 