»
Main Forums
»
Passions in Prose
»
The Secret Miracle
| Passions in Prose |
|
The Secret Miracle |
|
Mysteria 
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada 
|
 This miracle began a long time ago, near a small village on the main highway leading to the Italian border, where lived a poor woodcutter and his wife. They made what living they needed by supplying the local inn at the crossroads with firewood. They lived in what were indeed troubled times, and news had just arrived that the mobs had stormed the Bastille in Paris. Jean and his wife Marie did not understand many of the things that were being told in whispers in their village. In fact, coaches kept arriving at the inn daily increasing their income but proving that what was being said might be true. Indeed, the noblemen and their families were coming in droves to escape from their country thereby confirming the gossip about the village. Being hard-working peasants, Jean and Marie led simple lives and were happy in their surroundings, but had one special wish for fulfillment, a child. On this particular night, when they were nestling in to sleep in their small but comfortable bed, Marie confided to her husband: “Tomorrow is my Saint’s Day, and I have prayed to the blessed saint that we shall be granted our child, Jean. This is not the first time I have prayed but perhaps I have not been deserving. Now I feel that I will indeed be blessed in this my request.” Jean, after a few tender words of sympathy, dropped off into an untroubled, deep sleep. At the inn, a coach pulled up, and a beautiful young woman could be seen being helped into the entrance by a middle-aged man. He appeared to be her servitor rather than a parent or a husband. “Madam is not feeling well, and would like to have a clean room to rest in,” he explained to the innkeeper that came to greet him. I need a room nearby her and I would wonder do you have a goodly woman who can keep watch on my charge? We can pay you sufficiently.” The innkeeper’s wife soon found two servants willing to take turns with their new guest during the night watch, while the innkeeper was given a gold coin with the promise of another to follow in the morning. Other coaches were arriving and horsemen were calling for refreshments before continuing on their journeys, and all seemed so pressed for time, as if anxious to reach their final destinations immediately. The innkeeper and his wife had never been so busy, nor the inn full. They were thankful when silence filled the inn and some time could be taken for rest. A few hours later, when the innkeeper sat drowsing by the fire in the large common room, a voice aroused him, and there he saw standing the young woman’s serving man at the head of the stairs. He called to him desperately for a doctor, saying that his mistress had been taken very ill. “The nearest doctor is five miles away at least, but perhaps my wife could help her somehow. Besides, she is the village midwife and has much practice in curing pain.” Immediately the innkeeper’s wife saw that the young lady was in labor pains, and these she knew she could not cure. Sending the two servant girls for plenty of hot water and towels, she prepared for the delivery, and after many anxious and strenuous hours, a baby girl was born and the mother was now finally resting. Just before dawn, the courtyard resounded in the hoofs of a pair of horses, followed by a loud hammering at the door of the inn. The innkeeper asked what was needed at this hour and was told to warn Madame La Countess that a cavalry patrol had been heard to say in the last town, that they were looking for this lady. He hurried up the stairs and knocked at new young mother’s door. The serving man passed on the innkeeper’s message, and she was up in an instant. “We must start at once, “ she said. “Saddle us immediately, Armand, there is not any time to lose.” The idea of a lady traveling in such a condition was terrible but after consultation with the self-appointed midwife, it was decided that the risk must be taken, it being a case of life or death. Perhaps, though, the baby should be left with a some understanding peasant woman? The coach was now ready and the seat lengthened to make as comfortable a reclining position as possible for his lady. The newborn infant would be kept at the inn for a little while until it was decided what was best to do. Afterwards, a further hammering sounded as the patrol ordered his men to enter the inn and search for the escaping countess. Except for the innkeeper all were sleeping soundly in their beds, with the new baby safe in a doll’s cradle and peacefully quiet and unseen but for the tiny shape covered with a soft silk doll’s blanket. A plot was constructed in the early morning when the advice of the village cure was sough. “The ways of the Lord are so mysterious,” he was saying. “We mortals are destined to pay our parts in his play. Who knows if ever that young mother will reach safety, and even so, it will be long before she can return for her child. But now, we must place it in the hands of that worthy couple Jean and his wife Marie who live at the edge of the forest. They have so long wished for a child of their own, and perhaps this is the one meant for them/” Stirring in her sleep a little while later, Marie thought that she heard a knock at the door. It was not even light, and the air seemed so full of tension these days. “Jean,” she called, “I have had a dream … it might have been a vision. I saw a very special saint … she smiled, and I think her smile meant that I would get my heart’s desire.” “My poor dear,” murmured Jean, then he too heard the knock at the door. Marie rushed to open the door as he husband struggled into some clothes. She saw the barely wrapped cradle, and heard the small cries coming from under the beautiful silk blanket. There was no one in sight on the highway to be seen. Crossing herself, and wiping away tears, she lifted the cradle to her chest. “I can’t believe this,” cried Jean, now beside her. “Your miracle!” The two of them now sat by the fire in silence just staring at the precious cradle and its contents. “Your special saint, Marie?” Jean said. His wife looked up, tremulously, and nodded. “Yes, the prayer had to be answered in our Lord’s good time. I knew my miracle would come one day when we deserved a child Jean.” A couple of months later Jean walked in, kissed his wife, sat by the warm fire, smoking his pipe almost too quietly. He had just returned from a night’s stay in the inn at the crossroads, having delivered and stacking a large load of wood for the innkeeper. When evening came, the innkeeper and his wife invited him as their guest for dinner, and they had a very long talk that they all decided would have to be kept a secret. The next morning Marie was busy putting away the contents of her husband’s carpetbag when she saw something folded into the contents of the clothes within. It was just a small crumpled newspaper sticking out of his jacket stating some young countess had been murdered in the next village trying to escape from Paris, along with her manservant. How sad she thought, and she had to wonder if she too had been a mother? Suddenly the urge came over her to check on Louise asleep in her cradle. She picked her up so carefully and walked to the fireplace, and threw the paper in to warm them this chilly day. They all lived happily ever after Imagination is more important than knowledge... Albert Einstein |
||
| © Copyright 2004 Mysteria 1997 - All Rights Reserved | |||
|
Professor Gloom Member Elite
since 2000-07-23
Posts 3082of Depression |
Touching story Well told. Gloom |
||
|
Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
Well done my friend!! This was a sweet story - a fairy tale in fact. I love it!  |
||
|
iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Sharon, as you know, I haven't been around much lately, but I was so tempted to look in here tonight. I'm sure glad I did. This is a lovely write. You held my attention so well. It was as if I was a little birdie watching these events unfold. Much enjoyed!  & *hugs* .....jo |
||
|
Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Thank you for reading my trite little stories. This one was done for a friend on her Saint's day, and I wanted to personalize it to show her name, and her husband. Got the idea as after over 14 years of trying to conceive they finally got their wish for a child when they least expected it. She quit work last year to retire at age 46  and got a miracle from too much time on her hands I guess. Cute as the dickins miracle too  |
||
|
hoot_owl_rn Member Patricius
since 1999-07-05
Posts 10750Glen Hope, PA USA |
can you hear me applauding here in PA ? |
||
|
Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
Sharon, Trite?! Give me a break! Whatever... You know I am sentimental at heart and a romantic. Always a sucker for good endings. That was wonderful. Wish I were creative but until then I'll keep reading your prose everytime they pop up. Thanks sweet friend I needed that.  If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again. |
||
|
miscellanea Member Elite
since 2004-06-24
Posts 4060OH |
This was fun to read! Enjoyed the happy ending. miscellanea |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
