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Topic: Fishing (06/07/04)
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TITLE: As A Child By Donna Smith 06/14/04 |
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“Papa, Papa!”, Elizabeth shouted as she plummeted head first, into the small torn down cabin.
Samuel, Elizabeth’s grandfather, wearily sat on a wooden chair. Staring into the open fire he hoped the minced potatoes would miraculously turn into beef, in the iron pot.
“I found a job!”, she panted as her bare feet skidded by his chair, scattering dirt into the fire.
“I thought you went to the creek,” he replied.
“I did. I was down there trying to catch crayfish, and a man came up to me. He told me he was a prince.”
“Oh Bessy,” Samuel let out on a sigh. “What did I tell you about your silly tales?”
“Tis no tale, Papa. He said if I drank from the creek, I would be thirsty again. But if I drank from his water, I would never be thirsty!”
“Elizabeth Marie McMillian, tell me you did not drink this man’s water.”
“How could I? He didn’t offer me any.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Samuel wondered what had happened to her precious mind. “Ok,” he regrettably answered, “What job did you find?”
Elizabeth crouched low by his chair and answered on a hush, “I’m in service of the King!”
“The what?”, Samuel shouted jerking upright in his chair.
“The King!”
“The King?”
“Yes, Papa!”
Samuel’s old head began to throb as he searched his granddaughter’s eyes for any hint of deception. They were clear, more brilliantly clear than he had ever seen them. They actually had a sparkle to them that he had never noticed before. The dirt on her face seemed dim, compared to the smile that radiated from her.
Dreading the fact that he was about to crush her sweet spirit, Samuel gently said, “My dear Bessy, you are still a child, you cannot be in service of the King.”
“But the man down at the creek . . . ”
“Elizabeth, there was no man down at the creek.” He softly replied placing a loving hand on her.
Starting to feel frustrated that she wasn’t being believed, young Elizabeth shrugged his hand off and replied adamantly, “Papa, he said my job to the King was to go fishing!”
Oh dear heavens above I have lost her completely; Samuel began to fear in his heart.
“He told me, if I believed his words he would make me a fisher of men.”
Something stirred in Samuel’s heart. A distant memory, one so far he could not fully pull it to the recesses of his mind.
“What were his words?”, Samuel hesitantly asked.
“He told me he was the Son of God. He said because I was born bad, I needed him to die for me, so that I could go to heaven. I almost cried Papa, because he was so very nice. He told me not to be sad. He said he already died, and now he was alive again! I told him no one believes my tales, but I believe his. He smiled at me Papa, and put his hand on my head, and blessed me.”
Like bombs going off images flashed through Samuel’s mind: a small boy, sitting on a man’s lap, a crowded room, being blessed, crying by the side of the road as a man dragged a cross.
Samuel slowly asked, “Elizabeth, what was this man’s name?”
“Jesus”,she said in awe.
Grabbing his granddaughter, Samuel crushed her to his chest, and sobbed tears into her matted hair. “Oh Bessy! I remember him! I was there and saw him as a small boy. He blessed me, and I saw him carry a cross. He is alive?”
“Yes, Papa.”, Elizabeth replied with unknown tears streaking her face.
And in the innocence that only a child can contain, Elizabeth asked sniffing, “Papa, how do you go fishing for men?”
And Samuel smiling into her damp hair replied, “As a child my dear, as a child.”
Donna Smith