"Agh! Get out of here! You are always in the way! Can't you play somewhere else?" The tall woman reached down the swat at the little urchin that she was burdened with.
The little girl jumped up and ran down the street losing herself in the crowds in her haste to avoid the strong merciless hand that she saw raised out of her the corner of her eye. She had become very good at dodging such blows, though they were usually worse coming from her father -- a shrewd dishonest shop keeper that lamented his wife ever becoming pregnant with a girl, especially after she gave birth to a large healthy male baby 5 years previous. Her brother was 10 now and followed his father to the market every day, learning the tricks of his father's dishonest trade eagerly. Her father didn't want or need any more children, especially not girls with solemn green eyes that unnerved him and made his temper flare with discomfort and anger. She had born the brunt of his anger many times.
She ducked and clambered over and under people's feet, mules, market wears and rubbish, expertly weaving through the crowd. She knew which feet to jump over or go around and when an opening in a crowd would be open long enough for her to slip through. Her world was a world of calves and knees, sandals and hooves, because that is all she saw as she made her way through the city. She was headed for the gate in the hopes that the fields surrounding the walled city would be free of feet and full of things to watch and ponder in solitude.
Presently she arrived at the gate, and slipping behind the guard as he haggled over an old man pulling a cart much to large for him, she was in the open countryside on a packed dirt road. There were still people here, though, so she tripped and ran along the edge of the road, hoping to leave it as soon as something interesting caught her eye. Her small and weathered bare feet pounding the sand and pebbles that shifted under her toes. Presently she was joined by two boys, one slightly older, one slightly younger, but both bigger than her. They were often her playmates and she was pleased to see them.
"Are you going to thee the teather?" One lisped over the din of the crowd.
"No, what is that?" she answered.
"He means 'teacher'. We're going to see him with everyone else. He is beside the sea today." Explained the older of her companions.
"Oh," She said, pretending to understand. It dawned on her that most of the crowd was also moving away from the city. "Can I come too?"
"Uh'tourse! Tum on!" cried the younger, as he sped away down the road. She tossed her curls and She laughed at his nearly unintelligible speech and darted after him, the other boy at her heels. How good it was to have found an adventure!
On they ran until the people started to slow and stop, but they took no notice, having started a game of tag on the way and slowing would mean being "it". Several other children had joined them by that point and they were all very hot and dirty as they screamed and laughed darting through the forest of legs that was growing denser and denser as they ran. The little girl was at the head of the group, being the smallest and nimblest, and she was the first the burst through the crowd. She tried to slow herself to see why the crowd had suddenly vanished, but she was going too quickly and ran headlong into the legs of a man that was standing at the center of the crowd of onlookers. He had been talking, but he stopped when he felt a thud on his leg and looked down.
There, in a heap of dusty curls, arms and legs, was a little girl. She looked up, grabbing her curls violently to clear them from her face. Her eyes were huge with terror and she started to shrink away, like a caged animal waiting for a blow.
"Oh Tabissssa!! Tum back! That'ssss Him!!" A little boy hissed from the edge of the crowd. Then another, "Tabitha! Come back!!"
She was abound to dart away, when against all reason and the behavior of every adult she had ever known, the stranger's look of surprise turned to amusement and he smiled at her. Before she could help herself, she smiled -- no -- beamed at the face looking down at her. She had hardly dared meet an adult's eyes before, much less a man's, but this man was different. He... He loved her.
Suddenly she was grabbed from behind by a strong arm and she felt her feet leave the ground and a distinct growl of an irritated man sound in her ears, "Get out of here, what do you think you're doing? You little..." She immediately started struggling and bit the arm that held her as hard as she could. She tasted blood. The man yelped and she saw his other arm raise.
Before the blow came, the teacher spoke, His voice indignant, "Judas! Stop! Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God." He moved towards her then, and instinctively she reached for His arms. He took her from the angry man's hands and she clung to Him. He held her close, murmuring comfort to her while he smoothed her unruly curls. He then knelt down and beaconed to the other children standing wide eyed at the edge of the crowd.
He went on teaching, beaconing to the mothers also who had brought their children to be blessed. But all the while he held Tabitha in His strong arms, occasionally stroking her curls while her enraptured eyes never left his face. "Truly, I say to you," He continued, "whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it."
She drank it in and never forgot.
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Now there was in Joppa a disciple named Tabitha,
which, translated, means Dorcas.
She was full of good works and acts of charity.
Acts 9:36
Beautiful, Rachel! :)
ReplyDelete:) Wow. That is such a great interpretation of the story, I love it! Thanks for sharing this beautiful piece of writing.
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