#55.7, Tues., April 16, 2024

Historical Setting, 629 C.E. Vosges

         As everyone was working with every frivolous detail for the wedding feast, Greg brings Layla here, affirming my worst worry.

         Greg tells us that it was hardly a secret that Layla was hidden by the nuns after Hannah found she had been beaten by her husband. So, of course the oaf went in search of her.

         Greg brought her here so we can protect her and the child she is carrying by hiding her from the man who believes he legally owns her. Greg told us when the thug discovered Layla was gone because he had no one to prepare him his gruel, he filled his emptiness with the last drops of ale from a keg. This is the fellow who complained about the menu at our own family feast!

         Greg said, “He was quite drunk by the time he went looking for his wife, and,” in his most polite way to save Layla from hearing it, “he was disrespectful of the sacred halls of the monastery. 

         “After his indiscretion in the halls where the monks have their cells, he took himself over to the convent. This fellow was grunting and roaring, and making no intelligible human sound which was probably a good thing, since no one wanted to hear the human words that would suit his mood. Gaillard and I were in the monk’s guest quarters so when we heard the ruckus, we went out into the halls with swords drawn thinking a boar or a bear from the forests had wandered in. 

         “He was heading toward the convent, crossing through the courtyard when we saw it was Layla’s husband looking for his wife. The nuns were terrified, barring the doors and shuttering the windows.

         Gaillard and I had to take control of him by threatening him with our swords, then we took him at sword point before the Abbot. The Abbot told Will his wife wouldn’t be at the convent anymore, so he was never to come back there. And now Gaillard is taking drunken Will home, while I have Layla here in need of a safe place to stay.”

         Layla whimpers, “I’m sorry, Papa, Momma. I know he will come after me here too. I’m so sorry to bring this trouble here. If I just go back to him when he is sober there won’t be any more trouble. It has happened before; I know he will be sorry when he wakes up tomorrow.”

          “No” Ana tells her, “You can’t go back to him.”

(Continues tomorrow)

#55.6, Thurs., April 11, 2024

Historical Setting, 629 C.E. Vosges

         Brandell and I came to this wood to cut a clearing and now I learn he also plans to make a little house here. He knows I’m pretty particular about how thatch is laid. When it is done badly there are endless leaks and mold. So apparently, Brandell just decided to ask me to teach him from the start so he won’t have to hear me complaining every time I come to make repairs. I know there are so many more important things to think about in the world now, even within my own family. So maybe the art of thatch is just my favorite worry because I can control it. 

         The grasses in this end of the creek are abundant and fine quality and Brandell’s gift is working with his hands, so this little project should come along very well with two of us on it.

         Gaia has been spending these days with Ana while we are working on  this secret gift house.  Ana’s teacher who raised her from a young child was also blind, so Ana is sensitive to Gaia’s limitations but also knows her abilities. Carding wool is not for Gaia, but spinning is good because the quality of the yarn is determined by fingers knowing the feel of the strand.  When we return after our work Gaia is working with the spindle. I asked if Ana was asking too much of Gaia. But both women disagreed.

         Gaia has a plan for preparing the clearing using this spool of wool. She knows nothing of a house there, but she wants all the wedding guests to find their places in a circle of yarn she will weave among the trees. Then at the wedding, she herself can follow the string all around the edge of the clearing and meet with each of the guests without the need for a guide.

         So, all Brandell has to do to surprise her with the little house is to splice its doorway right into her guide line. Just when she thinks she knows the places for everything at the wedding feast, she will follow her guiding yarn and suddenly, there will be the little house! We are all having fun whispering and planning all these preparations and I wish I could say that was all I had to think about.

         But as we are just sitting down at table to eat, Greg rides in from Luxeuil with Layla sharing his horse.

(Continues Tuesday, April 16)

#55.5, Weds., April 10, 2024

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)

#55.4, Tues., April 9, 2024

Historical Setting, 629 C.E. Vosges

         Hannah just came back from her visit to see Layla. Nothing of her report puts our worries to rest.

         “Papa, Momma, we were right to worry. Layla has bruises. It will be several months more before the baby is born and her husband makes no secret of the cause for the bruises.  He says he needs a boy who is tough.”

      I say, “We all know he is a raging idiot.”

         Ana adds, “Layla’s known that all along.”

         Hannah says, “And yet she says she is the cause of his wrath.”

         “How can she blame herself?” Ana begs.

         “She said, herself, that he mistakes her docile nature for being weak and malleable. And when she shows strength and doesn’t break, he does. He breaks into ruthless rage.”

         I know, “I know that is the way of Layla. She keeps her core of strength deep and hidden. But it’s no cause for his anger. The blame needs to be on him.”

         Ana wonders, “Now what can we do to rescue Layla and her baby?”

          “This is my fault, I know, I should have been here.”

         “You didn’t have that choice, Laz,” Ana says, “And it is their baby. You can’t do anything as her Papa, except welcome her home if she should come here. That was all we could ever do.”

         Hannah tells us now that she has already taken Layla to be safe with the nuns at Luxeuil. “The nuns have seen this before.” She adds, “But you know, Papa, Layla has a bent for wandering. She won’t follow the restrictions of the monastery, so I promised her she would always be welcome home.”

         “Of course,” I know, “But this brings the danger to both of you and maybe even to Haberd’s family.”

         Ana wonders, “How is her own family not her safe place?”

         “You know her husband will follow after her on a tirade and everyone in his way will be in danger.”

         Hannah reiterates that she is pretty sure her little sister won’t stay at the monastery.     

          “You know your sister well.”

         “Papa, don’t you have prayer words to say aloud for this? I would expect to hear your prayers.”

         I was holding this in silence, “Dear God, thank you for Hannah’s gifts, and for this family. Help us be caring, courageous creative and understanding. Amen.”

(Continues tomorrow)

#55.3, Thurs., April 4, 2024

Historical Setting, 629 C.E. Vosges Mts.

         I’ve shared my concern about Layla with her sister Hannah, who is a medical practitioner.

         Hannah offers, “Papa, this is what I will do. I’ll take the donkey cart and the medical kit and go there to those new barely patches around the walls of aristocracy where the serfs farm. And just like any worthy practitioner of medicine I will call on a woman who is with child. I will listen to her belly for the thump of life and I will brew her a tea for the morning sickness. Of course, my visit can’t be seen as a spying mission on her husband. But if I should notice anything amiss, I will remind her that her own family is always a safe haven.”

         “Thank you, Hannah. That’s all we can do now.”

         So, with the marriage of our youngest our greatest worry, our second youngest, the poet and artist, is quite the opposite.  He’s just returned from a perilous journey to help rescue a Jewish tribe from persecution and now he is here with a new talent and a wonderful partner, Gaia.

         Gaia and Brandell are, right now, making plans with Mater Doe at the secular church to speak their marriage vows to one another up there.  Having a Mater for a Pater doesn’t worry Gaia at all. This deaf priest and she enjoy talking long and loud of their common homeland. Brandell is hoping Mater Doe will give permission to cut a wider clearing in the wood behind the church to make room for lots of people dancing and feasting.

         I suggested some other options for gathering, the pilgrim’s portico at Luxeuil, or the village green of Metz, but the wood behind the little secular church is not exclusive for anyone. And they are inviting the vintners, both Christian and Jewish together.

         Maybe it’s a sign we are in more settled times when the bigger feast for all the neighbors is for the wedding, and not a vigil for the dead. Another hope for peace is that the Merovingian line has yielded a king with power over the lesser nobility and land owners, promising some uniformity of rule. Though King Dagobert, who now rules all these Frankish lands, still only  listens to the Christian nobility, always aching for battle. We may yet be begging for a different constant. Whenever a land is ruled by self-centered wealth, as rich as it may seem, it is never peaceful and the poor suffer first.

(Continues Tuesday, April 9)

#55.2, Weds., April 3, 2024

Historical Setting, 629 C.E. Vosges Mts.

         My worry is for our youngest, Layla, living as a serf at the Castle of Waldelenas with a man, who seems to me, blundering and abusive.  Maybe that is just a father’s point of view, seeing his youngest daughter now starting her own family at such a young age. And I know human nature well enough to see myself possibly blaming another man for the very thing that is my own flaw. When I see this fellow’s oafish behavior as “controlling,” I know that is something I am often said to be by my own family. So, before I go off to confront him with an idea of changing his whole nature just to suit my wishes, were that even possible, I need to pray for better understanding.

         Help me God.

         One step in my caring for Layla is speaking with Hannah about it. Checking up on the health of her little sister is something Hannah will do most dutifully. 

         She agrees, “Papa, I know just what you mean. Layla and this man, Will, were married in a quiet ceremony without friends or family up at the castle where they are serfs. I know Momma worried over it but what could we do?”

         “How did this fellow even find Layla?”

         “You know Layla has a very quiet nature, harboring secrets — probably secrets from you and the rest of her family.  So, with you not here, she was something of a wanderer.”

         “If I had been here, she might not have stayed home either.  It is one of those things where the more a father protests, the faster she will be out the door. I do know Layla.”

         “Okay, Papa, you aren’t to blame for this. Maybe. But whatever she needed she sought elsewhere than here.” 

         “What do you suppose she needed, Hannah?”

         “I think she went looking for a papa to tell her what to do.”

         “So, you think she was looking for someone to control her?”

         “No, please, not that. I think she didn’t know what she wanted and you were what was missing—so she found a thoughtless oaf.”

         “So, I am best replaced with a thoughtless oaf?”

         “Of course, I guess that’s clear isn’t it.”  Hannah goes on, “I think she wanted to know she is important enough to set a man on edge. And Will is one who can be set on edge.”

         “I wish I could go back and make this right for her before…”

(Continues tomorrow)

#55.1, Tues., April 2, 2024

Historical Setting, 629 C.E. Vosges Mts.

         Some things feel right about these times.  Ana and I are together, and all of our children and their spouses and the grandchildren are here.  We even have Gabe with us for this rare reunion feast. And I have had a chance to listen to each, for their hopes and dreams and fears and woes.  But what probably seems peaceful to mules and horses returned to their familiar pastures is unsettling for us humankinds realizing we are on the cusp of transitions that are beyond our power to own as dreams.

         Kings and emperors are vying for power, and bishops still maintain armed guards. Peace is tenuous. The poor become poorer as the wealthy buy seats of power.

         Among the poor, I worry about our youngest, Layla, now with child, and married to an oafish castle serf. Not that I have anything against poor farmers, as I am also one, but as her father, I never had the opportunity to give them my blessing. And now that I could offer that, I wonder if I even should.

         There is some forgiveness needed in this family. Greg finally recognizes Haberd as the master of this family farm, even though Haberd wasn’t the first born. And Haberd has made an agreement with Greg to let out the extra pastureland to the mules and horses he and Gaillard bring for pasturing.

         Gabe brings the news to Brandell that the monastery has had some changes too. They have plans to add artwork. And it seems in the years when Brandell was away learning the pigments and binders for painting, preparing himself as an artist, the dour old authority on Church doctrine passed away. He is buried in the monk’s cemetery.

         Brandell asks Gabe to put in a word for him as a possible artist. He says he has an idea for a gospel story that could include portraits of lesser saints, like maybe a little portrait of Brother Albestus  himself.

         Haberd’s wife scolds Brandell for that teasing.

         “It could be respectful.” Brandell defends. Haberd snickers.

         It seems, Gaia and Brandell are planning a wedding at the secular church in hopes some of the people Gaia and Brandell were traveling with will be able to come for the feast and the dancing. It will be later in the season when beautiful weather is more to be expected. They will dance as the vine that brings people together and Brandell is already writing new words for the once forbidden songs.

(Continues tomorrow)

#54.12, Thurs., March 28, 2024

Historical Setting, The cottage in the Vosges

         This is a family reunion feast day, celebrating these generations. My oddity of life and life again is simply assumed among these people as they’ve been waiting for me, where other families meet for reunions, bringing the completed stories of ancestors who are no longer present to set the stories right. Here, I am the bearer, the earthly connection with the Jewish root of Christian.

         Gabe has taken leave from Luxeuil to be with us here. He’s been filled in on details of Brandell’s discovery of my burial and rescue. We are three generations here, with a deep root into the Jewish heritage of Christian. Four at this table are here as lovers and mates to our children so any thought we are a Jewish family with a Christian frosting is probably unfounded. Now we are all simply Christian at this table.

         Galliard mentions it, in its most superficial revelation, “We never seem to serve up the traditional Christian pig, it’s always lamb or less at this table.”

         Greg adds, “No pig ever dies for Easter on this farm.”

         Haberd adds, “No pig ever dies at all on this farm.”

         Haberd’s wife adds, “No pig ever lives on this farm.”

         Gaia weighs in, “But this lamb is really delicious.”

         Layla makes an excuse for her husband’s sour grunt, “For some, lamb is an acquired taste.”

         This is Layla’s husband’s first feast at our table, and she seems to be caught between her childhood family and her husband. He seems to me, at this first meal with him, something of an oversized, blundering ruffian – an oaf.  And here he is complaining about a serving of meat. He says, “It hardly seems like Christian food.”

         I only wish I had been here for Layla when her marriage was arranged. At least I would have sat this stranger down and asked him his dreams and biases before he ever planted his seed in the womb of our own baby girl. At least I don’t have to make my objection to any noble parentage of this fellow. Though it is clearly too late for me to make any objection now at all.

         Gaia, eases the tension asking the fellow if he is a hunter or a fisherman.

         He answers pridefully, “We have fish aplenty at our house, and when the peasantry is allowed the hunt, I can provide a plump and oily boar.  Poor but plenty is our table, isn’t that right, Girl?”

(Continues Tuesday, April 2)

#54.11, Weds., March 27, 2024

Historical Setting, The farm cottage in the Vosges

         Greg has no interest in hearing a lecture on gratitude for Haberd’s keeping the farm in good order. He dismisses our chat with, “we are all glad you’re back, Papa.” Kind as it sounds, Greg does have his own elder brother edge gnawing here at the peace.

         Now Hannah’s turn to speak with me is wedged in among all the tasks of organizing the family feast. Haberd’s wife seems relieved by this reprieve from her most helpful sister-in-law while Hannah takes this bench by the fire to talk with me.

         “Hannah, I know your mother has appreciated having you with her in my absence.  When we made that little cottage by the creek, I never imagined Ana would have to be alone there.”

         “Papa, I can understand why you wouldn’t be very good at noticing other people’s mortal needs.”

         “That’s gracious of you Hannah. How have you been?”

         “Momma and I have both been busy calling on the sick, and minding the needs of people all around. We’ve been going out on our calls together now that Momma is getting older.  She tires more easily but she is still strong and able to work.”

         “And how have you been, Hannah?”

         “What do you mean?”

         “I ask you how you are, and you tell me how everyone else is. You are always very good at noticing other people’s mortal needs. But, what of your own mortal needs?”

         Hannah bows her head so I don’t notice her quivering chin. And I know her need is this father’s hug to wipe away her tears. She is always the strong arms of strength for everyone else. And here she is now, in my arms sobbing. The youngest grandchildren come to watch this, and the five-year-old pats her so very tenderly.

         “What did you say to her, Papa?” Haberd accuses.

         Hannah regains her composure to answer for me, “It’s nothing Haberd, just leave me alone,” and she goes outside to be alone.

         “I just asked her how she’s been. Maybe that’s a question she isn’t accustomed to answering.”

         “Hannah is always fine. She is just Hannah.”

         Haberd makes this weary excuse for this blind habit we all may share in, taking Hannah for granted. She keeps her vulnerability hidden in all her good works. It’s not that no one thinks of Hannah, rather it is that everyone doesn’t.”

(Continues tomorrow)

#54.10, Tues., March 26, 2024

Historical Setting, 629 C.E. The cottage in the Vosges

I’m listening to my children fill in the missing years. Next, I listen to Greg who is here on the bench with Gaillard.

Greg begins, “Papa, I guess you found out the hard way about that ‘bad neighborhood’ where the Jewish refugees ended up.”

“Did Brandell tell you of the peacemaking possibility he and Gaia laid out for them?”

“He said their outsider viewpoint gave them unbiased judgment, which made it obvious the neighbors on both sides of the river had to work together or no vineyards could ever flourish.”

I add, “Try as I did, when I went there several years ago, I wasn’t able to interest anyone in peace, and they couldn’t find it for themselves.”

Gaillard observes, “It was probably one of those possibilities that was right in front of them yet the established vintners feared any success of new neighbors would only result in their own loss.”
         Greg adds, “and the refugees had their own fears and concerns.”

“Now,” I mean to speak to Greg of his own brother, “when a rift arises close to home it is sometimes hardest to see.”

“I feel one of those patriarchal lectures coming on, Papa. Did I ignore my responsibility to the brotherly bond with Brandell, somewhere in all this?”

“No, Brandell only spoke of his gratitude to you for starting him on his journey, guiding him through the mountains to the port in Ravenna.  But I have heard from Haberd that you have a debt of gratitude due him.”

“Haberd? What do I owe Haberd? He gets to rule the family farm, even though he is hardly the first born here.”

“Haberd and his wife and children have kept it a family farm, when so much tilled land is controlled by the few rich noblemen in these times.”

“So for this, Gaillard, nobleman of Metz, and I, are supposed to be grateful?”

“He only needs to hear you are grateful for the use of pastures for ten horses and ten mules.”

“So that’s what this is about. You know we could have brought elephants.”

“Or camels, he said you offered. He doesn’t need threats of larger beasts, or even payment for the extra straw that took a bit of ingenuity for him to maintain. He just needs a kind word of appreciation from his older brother.”

(Continues tomorrow)