Historical Setting, 629 C.E. Vosges Mts.
Mater Doe and Gaia had a lot to talk about and no secret gift-house was revealed. The elder priest seems to hear Gaia’s tender voice with the same finesse that allows her to hear the birds she shares bread with beyond the walls of this church. Brandell and Gaia went up at first light today because that is when Mater Doe can hear most clearly. So now they are home again, but the day is only half spent.
At the first sound of their horses, Hannah and her mother, and Haberd’s wife and their daughter, Ann, all working together on sewing projects for gifting the new housekeeping, scurry around the creek cottage, hiding everything they are working on, as though Gaia would see these things and the surprises would be revealed. Brandell and Gaia came home too early.
But Brandell is anxious to go to the monastery to deal with the old issues, in hopes he can be considered now as an artist. Gabe says not to worry about the past because he hasn’t heard any complaints about any poets, and Brandell hasn’t even been around for two years to make trouble for them. Also, the elder scholar that chastised him, sending him off to the ends of the earth, is at rest now. Brandell is assured the old ban may not be a worry. But “may not be a worry” is a worry in itself and Brandell is as worried as he is anxious to make sure things are resolved here.
Brandell also remembers Sister Colleen and some of those women from the convent who used to visit us when he was a child. He thinks Gaia will want to meet them too. He knows that one thing Gaia misses about her work selling icons was the opportunity to listen and talk with other women of deep Christian faith. So Gaia and Brandell go for a longer stay as guests at Luxeuil.
Gaia doesn’t realize she is being scurried off so Ana and these generations of women can make all the pretty things that fill a young woman’s imagination for having a house one day. And amid all this planning and preparation I’m wondering how it was for Layla, who just left in the night to wander off into the arms of the rude ruffian, Will.
Dear God, Thank you for your watchful care for all of the brides and their husbands as they make their way into their own wildernesses of new family. Amen.
(Continues tomorrow)
Lazarus Ink 