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@janellebelovedpig I’m late to the party but aww what a beautiful story!! The names of the characters and the whole setting/theme are reminding me of the book Hind’s Feet on High Places, which I love! The tone of your writing also matches the storyline perfectly. Cant wait to see the next bit!!
I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.
Alrighty! After the Craft an Amazing Story Idea Challenge, my story concept and plot are loads better. Because of little plot changes, somethings in the beginning chapter needed revised. Here’s chapter 1. Two point oh. 🙂
Journey to Great Faith_Complete First Chapter
This is a story of Little One and the ways she walked on her journey from her home village of Little Faith to her Guide’s mountain castle of Great Faith.
Little One dwelt in the village called Little Faith at the foot of the mountains. She had lived there since the Prince had brought her there at a young age. Most of her family lived there too, journeying out as merchants, tradesmen, and ambassadors for the King who reigned over the land. Some of her family had even journeyed out to Great Faith and back again, bearing epic stories of victories seen on the road and wondrous stories about the Guide and the King.
Little One served the King too, but not out on the road. Most days she went out and tended her little garden plot just outside the village. Two things consumed Little One’s time: one, this scanty garden, and two, her Bag of Entertained Thoughts. In this satchel, that accompanied her everywhere, she kept a journal of love for her family, a few of her favorite scripture verses written out on cards, memorized songs on pages, secret ambitions, books snuck in late at night, pages and pictures, and even some things she’d be ashamed to sort through if anyone was around. She often took out the pages and read them over again or guiltily snuck secret looks at them.
Young Little One was quite fond of growing her collection in the bag, her favorite source being from Mailman Love. He brought all sorts of letters, packages, and news to citizens all throughout the Kingdom. He was the way that Little One kept in touch with her traveling siblings and friends.
One day, just after Mailman Love had come by with a delivery, Little One was settled on a boulder in her garden, with the freshly opened envelopes in her hands, eager to read the news. But this day was different.
Little One looked up from her letter, trembling. She didn’t want to read it again, but her eyes wandered back, hoping she had been mistaken about what she had read. Her heart sank and she felt sick. It was true.
How could Undiscerned have willingly sold herself to the enemy’s slavery? Yeah, there were evidences of the loss of hope in Undiscerned’s life, but yet it was so unexpected. Little One felt like she had been hit with a pile of bricks. Her heart was beating fast and her cheeks were rosy hot. As tears stung to come out, she thoughtfully fingered the stack of her best friend’s last letters. Little One and Undiscerned had grown up happily together in Little Faith. But just in the last couple months Undiscerned had oddly started camping on the outskirts of the village and coming into the village less and less. Although Little One had not seen Undiscerned for weeks, Mailman Love kept them connected through their letters.
“Slavery?” Little One shuttered the terrible word outloud, shuttering again as she remembered the slavery she herself had been bought out of. In an instant the nightmares of the blazing fires came back to her. Fires where she had once worked before the Prince had rescued her, half a lifetime ago. The tears stung worse and some came falling. Why would Undiscerned do that willingly? She sobbed, “Oh, Undiscerned–”
“Little One!”Came a breaking call across the field.
Little One looked up quickly, a sudden shiver of guilt running down her spine. What would her parents Dear Encourager and Loving Prudence think if they found out their youngest daughter was best friend, or at least a former-best friend, to one of the enemy’s slaves, a deserter from the benevolent King? Then she mustn’t tell them.
“Coming!” She answered back, wiping her face and stuffing the letter in her Bag of Entertained Thoughts. She took a sweeping look around the garden. It was not emaculate by any means for often times when Little One came out her she would just end up reading through her Bag of Entertained Thoughts and thinking rather than tending to her fruit.. Weeds speckled Little One’s beds of tomato plants, barren cucumber vines, and leafy pepper plants, seemingly almost ready to begin showing their wares. Perhaps this was the year they would finally have fruit.
Little One sighed and latched the little gate behind her with a squeak.
Loving Prudence was there at the doorway of the family cottage, a basket of clean laundry on her hip. “How was the garden today?” She asked.
“Fine,” Little One ducked inside.
Loving Prudence looked thoughtfully at her youngest daughter. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” came Little One’s reply, but it caught in her throat. She lowered her eyes and caught the corner of Undiscerned’s stationery hanging out of her bag. Quickly she tucked it back in and busied herself with supper preparations.
All through supper Little One tried to focus on the conversations. She tried to be normal, but her Bag of Entertained Thoughts felt so heavy, she kept fidgeting with it. If anyone noticed, no one seemed bothered.
That night Little One could hardly sleep, haunted by images of Undiscerned at work stoking and bellowing the burning fires in the enemy’s armory. Work Little One had tried to block from her traumatized memory. I have been rescued, ransomed, saved, Little One tried to silently remind herself in the blackness of her shared bedroom. The King bought me with a price. That’s not my work anymore. I am saved. Little One shivered. The room was too dark.
Stealing out to an empty room down the hall, Little One lit a lamp and huddled in a rocking chair. But I am free, I’m free, free, she repeated to herself. Slowly, finally, wearily nodding off. But even sleep did not avail her, peace of mind giving way before tainted dreams. Nightmares, really.
In her dream, Little One was fighting in a battle, one of the enemy’s raids. Her friends and family were all warriors beside her. Even Undiscerned was there in the King’s colors, loyally fighting. But suddenly Undiscerned was stuck down. And, one by one, so was everyone else around her. Only Little One was left standing. Little One’s armor was scanty, hardly more than a leather sash. She barely had the strength to hold the shield and the heavy sword lay limply, rusty, at her side. An enemy soldier turned, looked her in the eyes, and stepped toward her; and hundreds of others appeared and did the same! They began beating their swords on their shields in a tormenting terrible clatter. Clash. Clash. Little One wanted to run, but her legs were putty. Clash. Clash!
Little One shook herself awake with a gasp, heart bursting her chest, her arm aching from her position in the rocking chair. The terrible clatter still echoed in her ears, morphing as her brain became clearer into its true source. Her older brother was simply making the morning fire and tapping the ash off the fire poker against the metal fire grate.
“I need help,” She groaned.
All day long Little One tried to catch Loving Prudence alone. Then just before supper Little One saw her chance.
As Little One stepped into the kitchen, Loving Prudence looked up from her stirring, “How are you, my daughter?”
Finally! Little One took an emboldening breath to answer and at that moment one of her siblings stepped into the kitchen. “Fine,” Little One sighed, letting go of her courage, and went about setting the table.
Sure?
Finally Little One saw another chance as Loving Prudence was folding the last of the day’s laundry. Her heart sat heavy in her chest and she could not remember what she had rehearsed all day over and over to say. Before any doubt could stay her hand, she blurted out, “Earlier you asked how I was. I said, ‘fine,’ but…’ Little One paused, gulping and taking a deep breath as she knew she had to finish her sentence. She had gotten this far. She needed help. “…I’m not fine.”
Tears welled up in Little One as Loving Prudence sat Little One down on the edge of the bed and heard the whole story.
“I got a letter from Mailman Love the other day. From Undiscerned. She talked about– she talked about surrender. To the enemy.”
Loving Prudence pulled Little One close, “Awh, sweet daughter…” Little One could hear the heaviness in her voice, saddened that someone would break the heart of her daughter.
Little One snuggled deep into the embrace and treasured the security, tears streaming. “There’s more. She’s– she’s in the enemy camp now. Doing the work that I used to do. And I can’t– I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Loving Prudence held Little One close for a long time. It was so relieving for Little One to get that weight out of herself. To share the burden.
“Come with me,” Loving Prudence said softly, and taking Little One by the hand, she led her up to the second story study where Dear Encourager sat at his desk. Drawing up two chairs, Loving Prudence relayed the story to him and Little One sat down silently, tears still streaming.
“Do you have the letter?” Dear Encourager asked.
“Yes,” Little One drew it out of her Bag of Entertained thoughts and set it on the desk. Loving Prudence sympathetically took up Little One’s hand in her own. Dear Encourager looked at the folded letter. Then at his daughter. Then at the letter. He got up and walked to the window silently. Thoughtfully.
“O Little One,” He shook his head, turning toward his youngest, “This breaks my heart, not just for Undiscerned, though for certain it does; it breaks my heart that your heart is broken, my daughter. Your heart being tender, compassionate, and loving is a beautiful thing. It’s the character of the King. I love seeing that in you.” He sighed deeply. “I am so sorry.”
Little One looked up, crestfalled, “Is there nothing I can do? Not even write her to convince her back? Or write one last letter to explain why I need to stop writing her?”
“Any letter or reply would put our Mailman Love in danger to deliver it,” Loving Prudence explained, consolingly rubbing Little One’s hand. “Even if a knight could bring it through the lines, it would be intercepted and twisted by the enemy before Undiscerned read it, leaving you both worse off.”
“You can still write, though. Write a petition to the King for a rescue,” Dear Encourager added, “He alone can bring Undiscerned back, if she is willing.”
Little One looked sadly at the letter still lying folded on the desk. The end. The last letter. From her best friend.
Loving Prudence looked to Dear Encourager, “What then of this letter?”
Dear Encourager took Little One’s other hand. “I want to protect you, Little One. Will you let me seal it again and return it as ‘undeliverable’?”
Little One looked up quickly. That seemed so drastic. But the influence of it was strong. Too strong. Strong enough to pull Little One away. All the friendship and happy years together with Undiscerned in Little Faith flashed through Little One’s mind. All for not? Never again?
She looked up at her father and saw love shining out of his eyes, teary like hers. It was wise. It was what must be done.
Little One leaned forward and gingerly picked up Undiscerned’s last letter. “Yes,” Little One breathed in a whisper and shakingly surrendered it over to her father’s hand.
Sure?
The days seemed lighter after that. The guilty burden of hiding the letter was gone, now what lingered was just grieving her best friend. Little One didn’t often journey out to her garden anymore or anywhere else alone, but stayed close by home, close to her family. She maskingly played with her siblings and always turned her gaze away from where her thoughts still wandered back to. Where the nightmares returned her. Away from the forests to the south. The forests were Undiscerned was. Out there somewhere. Lost.
“My daughter,” said Loving Prudence as she came in one carrying a parcel to the room where Little One was sitting. “Come and see this.”
Little One set down her handiwork and moved over to where Loving Prudence stood. Loving Prudence handed the parcel to Little One, who curiously untied the strings and unfolded the cloth. It was a book inside.
“This is the Guidebook. This one is your very own.” Loving Prudence explained. “Years ago our King sent out this history of the Kingdom. An Edict for It. A Map of sorts. In it too He…”
Little One looked up from the book, still with a quizzical expression. Loving Prudence smiled and started over, “Take your cloak and come with me.”
Loving Prudence took Little One through the busy streets of the village. Past the smithies shop, through carts and donkeys, down market street, and past the booths; until they reached a little stone wall around a domed building near the middle of the square.
It was a familiar stone wall to Little One who had ventured nearly every reach of this village. She’d never been inside, though. She knew from what she’d heard that inside was an immaculate botanical garden and had often caught the scent of sweet fruit wafting over the wall and had seen faces come out beaming with peace and contentment. It was called the Sanctuary. Little One had never gone in because the door was always locked whenever Little One had tried before.
Now Loving Prudence flipped open the Book to the center pages and pulled out a key on a ring. She handed it to Little One.
“The Guide built this Sanctuary for His people. I come here repeatedly. For comfort. For encouragement. To pray my deepest sorrow. To joyfully give my highest praises. To cleanse. That’s what I want for you, my daughter. For your mind to be cleansed.”
Little One cocked her head to one side as she took the key. She’d been in a few of the Guide’s buildings before, but never had one affected her like Loving Prudence was describing.
Little One turned the key in the keyhole, opened the gate, and they stepped in together.
There drifted by such an aroma that Little One wondered how she had ever been satisfied by the faint sweet wiffs from the outside of the wall. Birds sweetly proclaimed their jeweled melodies and soft calls high above in the dancing sunlight beyond the rich canopy of emerald trees. Below there wound gentle clear springs, rippling beside a meandering path. Agates and beautiful colored swirls studded the path, gently illuminated from underneath and creating a majestic stainglass effect with the richness of a cathedral. Light hammer dulcimer strokes broke and enhanced the thick peace. Amongst the green of the floor were delicate white hooded lilies and brilliant orchids. Butterflies floated about them like colored lace in the wind.
Little One took it all in. It was overwhelming exactly what she didn’t know she wanted. Needed.
Loving Prudence slipped her arm over Little One’s shoulders and walked them over to a white marble bench. Silently opening the Book, she read in the sweetest whisper, in slow reverent awe of the words,
“How blessed are all who take refuge in Him….
Thou, O Lord, art a shield about me,
my glory and the One who lifts my head.
I was crying to the Lord with my voice,
and He answered me from His holy mountain….
The Lord sustains me….
The Lord also will be a stronghold for the oppressed,
a stronghold in times of trouble;
and those who know Thy name will put their trust in Thee,
for Thou, O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek Thee….
O Lord, Thou has heard the desire of the humble;
Thou will strengthen their heart, Thou will incline Thy ear….
Thou will make known to me the path of life;
in Thy presence is fullness of joy;
in Thy right hand there are pleasures forever….
My steps have held fast to Thy paths. My feet have not slipped….
The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer,
my God,
my rock,
in whom I take refuge;
my shield and the horn of my salvation,
my stronghold.
I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised,
and I am saved from my enemies….
As for God, His way is blameless; the word of the Lord is tried;
He is a shield to all who take refuge in Him….”
Loving Prudence placed the open book in Little One’s hands and Little One read aloud,
“Thou has also given me the shield of Thy salvation,
and Thy right hand upholds me;
and Thy gentleness makes me great….
The Lord lives, and blessed be my rock;
and exulted be the God of my salvation….
The law of the Lord is perfect,
restoring the soul;
The testimony of the Lord is sure,
making wise the simple.
The precepts of the Lord are right,
rejoicing the heart;
The commandment of the Lord is pure,
enlightening the eyes.
The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever;
The judgements of the Lord are true;
they are righteous altogether.
They are more desirable than gold,
yes, than much fine gold;
Sweeter also than honey and the drippings of the honeycomb.
Moreover, by them Thy servant is warned;
In keeping them there is great reward.”
Little One read that section again to herself.
Never had she experienced this. She’d even read bits of this Book before, but it had never seemed to be for her. It had never spoken into exactly what she was going through. But it did today. The wondrous words swirled around in her head as she got up and slowly followed the agate path. Light radiated from under the agates displaying what a glorious kaleidoscope was found in the beautiful swirls and patterns. It was beautiful. For the first time, Little One felt what a great love the King had for her. Yes, she’d been rescued by the King from slavery years ago, but after that the King had seemed far away in the mountains at his castle of Great Faith while Little One was just in the tiny village of Little Faith in the foothills, hearing about him but not knowing him.
Yet, if the King had built the Sanctuary in this little village. This peaceful place. This blessed place. What love! He had known his people needed this gift. He had probably known Little One needed it.
Memories of trouble faded away and the King was magnified, the biggest, all she could think about. All her mind was filled with. Just like what Loving Prudence had read, in his presence was fullness of joy.
Slowly, as Little One stood still and listened, there was a melody, shared by the dulcimer, water, birds, even the quiet flutter of the butterflies and silently praying blooms. An echo of the Book.
The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever,
Desirable far beyond refined gold
Thy judgments are true, righteous altogether
Sweeter than the sweetest honeycomb
Turning simple to wise
Righteous, rejoicing the heart
Purely the light of my eyes
Cleansing for a new start
Surety surrounds Thy glories
Perfection is the Law of my Lord
Walking in Psalmic Sanctuaries
I find rest and am restored.
Hi! I’m am just now working on chapter 2, which has been a hard one for various reasons. But I’m liking my draft, so it should make its way shortly. In the coming chapter, I introduce a villain.
Meet ‘Yore: 🦜
Intrigued? Chapter 2 coming soon!
@esther-c @freedomwriter76 @acancello @kyronthearcanin @felicity @starshiness @whoever-else-is-welcome-to-chime-in-welcome-to-chime-in @do-you-even-remember-this-2-year-old-WIP? 🤭
Howdy! Little by little I’ve gotten the 2nd “chapter” done. Please let me know if it changes tone too much. I’m afraid that this second one doesn’t have the same tone as the first. It’s kinda still my rough draft and I’m not in love with all the words yet, so please tell me honestly what you think.
Thank you for reading!
ing!
Here we go!! Chapter TWO
sorry if the formatting turned outgoofyIt was a good day. Little One cheerily stepped along the path out to her garden. She hadn’t been in several weeks, not since getting Undiscerned’s letter. But a thrill beat in her heart to be back.
She had been to the Sanctuary everyday. The most wonderful place.
“…Psalmic sanctuaries I find rest, Psalmic sanctuaries I am restored…” She made up a melody as she skipped along. She spun around in a happy jig and planted her feet at the gate of her garden. Fumbling with the latch, she stepped in with the familiar squeak of the hinge. She looked around and took in the taller thicker green weeds, her imagination morphing them into the pure lush emeralds of the Sanctuary.
With a giggle she unshouldered her pack and set about her mission.
“Oh, hello, robin,” Little One greeted the songbird that had flitted down to watch her take out her spade from the pack. “If I can make the soil here ready, I can bring over some plants from the Sanctuary to grow here. Oh, robin, have you flown there? Have you seen the Sanctuary?” Little One threw her head back in joyous song, “In Psalmic Sanctu– Oh!”
She cut off quickly at the sight of a strange man outside the garden fence watching her. Little One’s face glowed deep pink as she cleared her throat, “Hello, uhm, can I help you?”
The man looked up from watching the robin. A cloak of the King’s colors hung off of his painfully thin frame and was clasped with an emerald crest. He had dark blonde hair and a thin beard and stooped his shoulders a bit. The most striking thing about the man was his expression. Shivers scurried down Little One’s spine as soon as she saw it. A look of panged hunger, void, desperate, longing, a stranger to all that is good, and without hope. Had it been days or weeks since he had eaten anything? It was a look Little One had never seen before. But as soon as she had that thought, another thought snuck in and prevaded: Hadn’t she seen it before? Was it not this same expression that had been on her face before the King had come to free her from her slavery?
“I was just passing by and I–.” The man trailed off. After an awkward pause, the man continued, “I wondered, you see, I haven’t eaten in a long while. May I see if you would have anything ripe today?” The stranger gestured to the garden. Little One nodded quickly, gulping, still staring at the stranger’s face, and the stranger opened the gate, rocking it back and forth on its hinges. “Ah, squeaky, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Little One sheepishly nodded, her eyes hurriedly darting over to her garden plants. She couldn’t see any fruit among the green foliage. She moved in closer and dug among the leaves. Nothing. Oh, Little One wanted to help. She knew she had to. The look on the man’s face had struck her deeply. Her heart beat fast.
“I don’t see anything here, but I’m from the village Little Faith. It has the Sanctuary. It’s the most wonderful place in the world! The King built it. We go there,” Little One breathed in, at once peaceful at the memory, as she thought back to the first day she’d gone there and now repeated her mother’s words, “ ‘for comfort, for encouragement, to pray our deepest sorrow, to give our highest praises. To cleanse.’ You can also be fed there. Here,” Little One dug in her Bag of Entertained Thoughts and pulled out a napkin wrapped hunk of bread. “This is from my parents. Oh, I wish I had something of my own to give. Take this.”
The stranger bashfully accepted the parcel, and caressed it gratefully before devouring a chunk and tucking the rest in his jacket while savoring his chewing. Presently, he spoke, “Sancuary, aye? We have sanctuaries too in my village. But they must be different; I’ve never been fed there. I’m from Other Faith. It’s outside of the Kingdom.”
“Do you have the same King?” Little One asked, remembering that the citizens outside the Kingdom were often of a different allegiance.
The man adjusted his cloak and snapped, “Well, I’m wearing the King’s colors, aren’t I?”
Little One was taken aback. She hadn’t meant to offend the man. “Yes, I uh–” She stammered.
The man shrugged it off and nodded, “Thank you, ma’am.” The stranger turned and walked slowly towards the gate. Before going all the way through, he turned back, with the same desperate expression returning, too deep for describing and Little One shivered again, “It’s a shame.”
“What is?” Little One leaned forward attentively, still hoping she could help and redeem herself for offending him.
“That the King can’t count on your garden. I know a lot of hungry people.”
With a squeak of the gate, he was gone.
Little One stayed where she was. Interactions out of the ordinary always stick with you in your mind, but this one, fully out of the ordinary, had suddenly seemed to suck everything out of her. She blinked. She sank to her knees in the weeds.
Something about the man’s face. Something familiar about… the lostness. It panged the same expression onto Little One’s face. And she hadn’t been able to help. She had nothing to give of herself. All that she had gained in the Sanctuary, gained in encouragement and life seemed to lose foothold and slide away. She felt even everything she had gained as a reunited daughter slip away.
Little One ran back down the path, not caring about the gate shutting behind her. She tore through the little treeline. Tears ran sideways across her temples and dripped onto her ears. She tore through the village streets to the dearly familiar wall. Panting, fumbling with the key from the Book in her bag, she opened the door and stepped in. She wanted to rush in, but the sudden calm of that place that welcomed her knocked her breath away. She reverently trotted to the fountain. Her hands were filthy from the soil she had been digging in. Yes, that’s how she felt. Filthy. The servant heart in her couldn’t help the man. The garden had failed its purpose.
She plunged her hands in the waters and rubbed away the dirt. It swirled brown for a second, but the churning forgiveness didn’t leave that stain.
Why did that affect her so much? Little One’s thoughts raced faster than her heart from the run.
Wiping her dripping hands on her tunic, Little One opened the Book. It had helped her before. Maybe this filthy feeling would go away like her sadness did last time, like the dirt did this time. She opened and read,
“ ‘Say to the righteous that it will go well with them, for they will eat the fruit of their actions.’ ” Little One shut the book. She had never had a harvest. And today she needed one. If she was supposed to eat the fruit of her actions, she would be very, very hungry. Just like the stranger from Other Faith. The stranger she hadn’t been able to help.
She had to make this right! But how? The answer evaded her, so she tried to brush it out of her mind.
That night, Little One tossed and turned, trying to be quiet for her sisters also in the room. She gently turned up the wick on the night lantern by her bed and slipped open the Book. Flipping through it, her eyes couldn’t concentrate on the dim flickering words.
Tap, tap, tap! Coming from the window made her jump. What was that? Little One rolled over, pushed her covers off, and strode to the window.
Tap, tap, tap! The noise came again and Little One hurried forward so she could stop it before it woke up her sisters. A small shadowed figure was outside on the windowsill.
Little One slid up the sash, the cool of night pouring into the room with clouds parting to permit the moon to identify the figure in its beams. Twas a little parrot.
“Hullo?” Little One was puzzled.
“Braaawk! Come with me!” It squawked, pecking at the sill.
“Shh!” Little One looked hurriedly at her sisters still in their beds.
“Come with me!” The nuscance squawked again.
“Alright, alright. Shoo! I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Braaawk! In a minute!”
Little One slid the sash back down to the sill and quietly tugged on some day clothes over her nightgown. Boots on hand and afghan over her shoulder, she stole quietly out of the room.
As she gently released the knob so that it didn’t click, the thought crossed her mind, what was she doing?! Sneaking out to meet a parrot in the dead of night? She brushed the thought aside, as with many thoughts of late. She wasn’t interested in thinking right now. Too many memories.
She tightened the afghan around her as she stepped toward where the little parrot was on the yard fence.
“What do you want?” She whispered with a temper, ready to turn around and go back in.
“Braawk! Hungry! Hungry! Come with me!” The parrot answered, dipping his head to motion her outside the front gate.
Her mind flashed to the man from that morning. Hoping the parrot was oblivious and talking about something else, she offered, “Who?”
“Braawk! Other Faith.” The parrot looked unblinkingly at Little One with it’s big black pupils and green eyes illuminated by the moon. Then it flapped its wings on its perch. “Hungry! Hungry! Come with me!”
Guiltiness ran shivers down Little One’s spine. She drew the afghan closer around her shoulders, but knew that wasn’t the reason she felt cold. The little bird repeated its prompting and fluttered to the gate.
Little One hesitated a moment, the filthy feeling she had numbed sneaking back. “Doubtless you’ll give me no rest.” She sighed, eying the bird. “Alright, give me a moment.”
“Bra-awk-awk-awk!” The parrot honked, and Little One hurried inside to prepare.
I don’t have time right now, but I’m sure I’ll be able to get to reading this by next week!!
Write what should not be forgotten. — Isabel Allende
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