They woke us up to tell us she was born, the child they said would lead us to the morn. The child they said would set the world aright on its new axis. The one we shouldn't say was born with light. The priests said we should take all steps to block the light so Satan wouldn't know that it was she. And so we did, but light like this can never all be blocked. It seeped out from beneath the coat of animal intestines cooked in wine vinegar, and all the priestly remedies seemed for nought each time she entered church and cast her golden glow.
The priest was so unnerved he barely preached a word when she was there. He knew the Pope would never have accepted, a child with colored blood as the fulfillment of their sacred prophecy. He thought it best to act as though she wasn't even there, and her baptism seemed an endless wait for Vatican approval. So off her mother went and took her to a church that didn't care if she was green with golden hue, or brown and blue. They said a baby is a baby, and one with golden hue is just as naughty as the ones without. Well, they were wrong, but little did we know, she was indeed the true fulfillment of the sacred prophecies they kept a secret, lest the world should know the Virgin Mary may not have been a blonde, as they had said, may not have been the one they said she was. But Anglican or Catholic, it mattered not to me. I still would see her as the little girl who never told a lie, whose mother always seemed to know the truth, whose world was never rocked by huge deceptions coming forth to claim the day. I wondered how she would survive a world in which she never told a lie, a world that always seemed askew, where everything you knew was never true. I wondered also when she would relent and tell the first real lie, so all of us would know that God loves even those of us who lied. I wondered also at the things that made her cry, the words that made her block her ears so that she wouldn't hear the things we said to others, so that she wouldn't feel their pain or dread or fear. She wanted every thing we thought was make believe, a world in which the words we spoke were kind, or true, with kindness as an everlasting hue. A world in which we never had to lie, because every one we spoke with knew the truth and loved us even more because of it. A world in which the Lord was never angry, just disappointed when we failed a test. A world in which regardless of the circumstances, everything would always turn out right. A world in which the Lord, our God Almighty, would save us when the end was very near, and take us to eternity, where everything was right, and everything that wasn't right would always turn out right. Anonymous 4
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AuthorRebekah Isaac Archives
December 2020
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