The darkness that inevitably comes brings with it a pause, a quiet. Not always is it something tangible, but this night it was. She could feel it in her bones, and looked to the trees with a sense of awe as the wind blew through her. She sheltered the lit branch with her hand.
There is something old here, something cold, but also new and just born. The dark was deeper this night than any yet, and as the snow began to slowly trickle down, she waited. The flakes landed on her nose and chin, her face upturned towards the canopy; an eagle shrieked. Suddenly she turned and the flame struggled to remain lit; there it was. She backed into the shadow of a tree and knelt, watching it meander through the wood. It's antlers were long and woven, dark in the night. The moon broke through the clouds and shone on his coat. She sat, silent, fearing it would sense her and flee. But it stood, nosing a bush nearby; then looked right at her for just a single moment. She could feel it's eyes on her, but either it did not really see her or it did not perceive her a threat. The girl held the burning branch low, and held her breath, believing the condensation would give her away. A moment later, a doe and twin fawns emerged from the darkness and poked at the bush as the buck stood guard.
For that instant, the girl did not know she was cold, but as she stared she shivered. She was uncertain how much time had passed since her arrival.
SNAP! and a flutter of wings, and the family turned and bounded back into the darkness. The girl, startled, gasped as the light grew. What was this she was witnessing? How could there be a light in the forest this night? She wondered if it was the torch of a hunter, but the light was far too bright to be flame. The shadows around her faded as the light seemed to draw near to her. Still she could not make out what it was nor where the light came from. She pressed her back into the bark and pulled her knees into her chest. If she moved she might be seen, and whatever it was, it surely knew that a girl should not be alone in the forest in the dark. Her father would be furious and she would have to fetch water for a week.
She began to squint and shielded her eyes with her hand. Then she closed her eyes.
She heard a voice.
What brings you into the dark this night? The forest is always awake and always dangerous for a child. Where do you belong?
Ah...uh...my father is the smithy.
And he allows his young daughter to wander in the darkness this way?
He does not know I am here. He believes I am asleep.
Still, you have not told me why you are here.
I came seeking the buck. I saw him near the creek yesterday; he is beautiful. I only wanted to know if he had a family. My father says we need meat, but I would hate to see the fawns left alone to die.
Ah, child. What will you eat for the remainder of the winter if not deer?
Hare, I suppose.
And is that satisfactory for your family?
It is only my father and I. My mother died with child some months ago.
Still, a buck and his mate would suit you better than hare.
Yes, but the creatures are so graceful and peaceful. I have never felt well about it, once I was old enough to learn.
Do you see the bare trees in the winter?
Trees? Yes. The leaves fall to the ground in autumn.
Does that not make you sad?
Well, no, the leaves return in the spring.
Always?
Yes. In all my nine summers.
How many deer do you believe are given to the village each year?
Oh, I would not know.
Yet are there always deer in the winter?
Yes. There have always been as much as I know.
The deer are here to give you life. They live and die to the rhythm of the forest and of the people. There will be deer born again in the summer, as always. It is a circle. As the leaves on the trees. But you must also be thankful.
Thankful?
The earth provides for you with it's blood and bones, because One tells it to. He dwells around it and within it to direct it's course, that it might sustain you. You ought to thank One for the gift of life the forest gives.
Who is One?
I say, fear not, for He is also and always with you and within you.
Who?
He is in all things and above all things and surrounding all things.
Who!?
The One who lights your way.
One?
Silence. In a rush of wind, she was in darkness once again. She sucked in her breath. So cold; so very cold. She rubbed her eyes and realized she must have fallen asleep; but not for long, as her branch was still burning. All she could hear was the rush of the water in the icy creek. And silence. Yet she felt the strangest sense of peace and beauty.
The girl stood and turned to head home. The strangest dream, she thought. What could it mean? She trudged through the snow and reflected on what she had learned.
As she neared her hut, she saw something lying in the snow. It was unclear to her, at first; then a shudder in her chest as she understood. The snow was red with blood and brown with skin. Her father had slain the deer while she was away. Oh! This meant he would see her coming and wonder why she had been in the forest at night when she was to be sleeping.
She saw his figure bent over the deer, humming as he worked. She thought if she crept he may not notice.
Aye child! Seen fit to return, have you?
But...?
I'm not angry, child. I saw you wander and knew what you were about. I followed not too far. You are quite the tracker, you led me right to him.
But...
It's right, child. We need the meat. I am thankful you had the mind to go searching. I was beginning to worry about us. You'd best turn in, it is late, aye?
And then, it all was clear to her, as the night which now bore stars in place of snow. They call it sacrifice, that they might live. Now she understood.
And she gave thanks to the mysterious One.
There is something old here, something cold, but also new and just born. The dark was deeper this night than any yet, and as the snow began to slowly trickle down, she waited. The flakes landed on her nose and chin, her face upturned towards the canopy; an eagle shrieked. Suddenly she turned and the flame struggled to remain lit; there it was. She backed into the shadow of a tree and knelt, watching it meander through the wood. It's antlers were long and woven, dark in the night. The moon broke through the clouds and shone on his coat. She sat, silent, fearing it would sense her and flee. But it stood, nosing a bush nearby; then looked right at her for just a single moment. She could feel it's eyes on her, but either it did not really see her or it did not perceive her a threat. The girl held the burning branch low, and held her breath, believing the condensation would give her away. A moment later, a doe and twin fawns emerged from the darkness and poked at the bush as the buck stood guard.
For that instant, the girl did not know she was cold, but as she stared she shivered. She was uncertain how much time had passed since her arrival.
SNAP! and a flutter of wings, and the family turned and bounded back into the darkness. The girl, startled, gasped as the light grew. What was this she was witnessing? How could there be a light in the forest this night? She wondered if it was the torch of a hunter, but the light was far too bright to be flame. The shadows around her faded as the light seemed to draw near to her. Still she could not make out what it was nor where the light came from. She pressed her back into the bark and pulled her knees into her chest. If she moved she might be seen, and whatever it was, it surely knew that a girl should not be alone in the forest in the dark. Her father would be furious and she would have to fetch water for a week.
She began to squint and shielded her eyes with her hand. Then she closed her eyes.
She heard a voice.
What brings you into the dark this night? The forest is always awake and always dangerous for a child. Where do you belong?
Ah...uh...my father is the smithy.
And he allows his young daughter to wander in the darkness this way?
He does not know I am here. He believes I am asleep.
Still, you have not told me why you are here.
I came seeking the buck. I saw him near the creek yesterday; he is beautiful. I only wanted to know if he had a family. My father says we need meat, but I would hate to see the fawns left alone to die.
Ah, child. What will you eat for the remainder of the winter if not deer?
Hare, I suppose.
And is that satisfactory for your family?
It is only my father and I. My mother died with child some months ago.
Still, a buck and his mate would suit you better than hare.
Yes, but the creatures are so graceful and peaceful. I have never felt well about it, once I was old enough to learn.
Do you see the bare trees in the winter?
Trees? Yes. The leaves fall to the ground in autumn.
Does that not make you sad?
Well, no, the leaves return in the spring.
Always?
Yes. In all my nine summers.
How many deer do you believe are given to the village each year?
Oh, I would not know.
Yet are there always deer in the winter?
Yes. There have always been as much as I know.
The deer are here to give you life. They live and die to the rhythm of the forest and of the people. There will be deer born again in the summer, as always. It is a circle. As the leaves on the trees. But you must also be thankful.
Thankful?
The earth provides for you with it's blood and bones, because One tells it to. He dwells around it and within it to direct it's course, that it might sustain you. You ought to thank One for the gift of life the forest gives.
Who is One?
I say, fear not, for He is also and always with you and within you.
Who?
He is in all things and above all things and surrounding all things.
Who!?
The One who lights your way.
One?
Silence. In a rush of wind, she was in darkness once again. She sucked in her breath. So cold; so very cold. She rubbed her eyes and realized she must have fallen asleep; but not for long, as her branch was still burning. All she could hear was the rush of the water in the icy creek. And silence. Yet she felt the strangest sense of peace and beauty.
The girl stood and turned to head home. The strangest dream, she thought. What could it mean? She trudged through the snow and reflected on what she had learned.
As she neared her hut, she saw something lying in the snow. It was unclear to her, at first; then a shudder in her chest as she understood. The snow was red with blood and brown with skin. Her father had slain the deer while she was away. Oh! This meant he would see her coming and wonder why she had been in the forest at night when she was to be sleeping.
She saw his figure bent over the deer, humming as he worked. She thought if she crept he may not notice.
Aye child! Seen fit to return, have you?
But...?
I'm not angry, child. I saw you wander and knew what you were about. I followed not too far. You are quite the tracker, you led me right to him.
But...
It's right, child. We need the meat. I am thankful you had the mind to go searching. I was beginning to worry about us. You'd best turn in, it is late, aye?
And then, it all was clear to her, as the night which now bore stars in place of snow. They call it sacrifice, that they might live. Now she understood.
And she gave thanks to the mysterious One.
Please visit my fellow Synchrobloggers. This month's topic is "Light and Dark as Motifs of Spirituality":
Phil Wyman finds Darkness: a Thin Place for the Soul
Adam Gonnerman on being "In Darkness"
Lainie Petersen at Headspace
Jeff Goins is "Walking in the Light with Jesus"
Ellen Haroutunian finds Holy Darkness
Bethany Stedman thinks Light is Coming
Julie Clawson walks through Darkness and Light
Kathy Escobar will Take a Sliver Anyday
Susan Barnes at ...and here's a photo of one I made earlier
Joe Miller thinks you can Discover Light in Darkness
Beth Patterson talks about Advent: Awaiting the Ancient and the Ever New
Liz Dyer says What the Heck
Sally Coleman muses about Light into Darkness
Steve Hayes with the Lord of the Dark
Josh Jinno with Spiritual Motifs of Darkness and Light
KW Leslie contrasts Darkness versus blackness
Erin Word writes Fire and Sacrifice
22 comments:
It is said that Eskimo hunters in Alaska asked how it could be that men could hunt animals that were bigger and faster than man, and believed that the animals sacrificed themselves to human needs, so men sould be grateful to them, and receive their sacrifice with thanksgiving.
This was a great story. I loved it.
-- Jarred.
Thanks for writing out of your heart.
"The greatest treasures are those invisible to the eye but found by the heart" Author unknown
I like it!
Y.A.H.
Erin
this is spectacular!
I breezed through it because I'm on my way to work. This just won't do! I'll be back later to hold on to every word.
It's ministering to me even now.
THANK YOU.
Erin- Great story and great title. There was a subtleness that allowed it to speak to the heart instead of just the mind.
I love the poetry here.
Thanks Steve, that's kind of what I was going for, in a roundabout way.
Jarred - Coming from you, that's a wonderful compliment. Thank you.
Hi Frances - I don't believe we've met. Welcome! And thank you. I love that quote.
Xmplufi (aka my husband) - Thank you.
Thank you Liz. I appreciate that, I loved this topic. I haven't gotten around to all the other posts yet, but I will!
Thank you Jeff. I don't think we've met before. I'm glad you visited.
yup, im a new synchroblogger. i love this system. it'd be cool to do every week!
Ooh, dudette! Some poetic storytelling - wunderbar!! This is really good, nicely nuanced. Mmmm!!!
You're inspiring me to write fiction :)
This is awesome Erin!!
Thanks for sharing it!!!
Dear Erin--
This is a wonderful story--combining so many themes.
This is a great story for our culture, for our times. Disconnected,we are so lacking in gratitude, as Steve points out in his comment.
There is ample documentation of the moment before a hunted animal is taken down by the hunter--a moment of eye-and soul?-contact that seems like the communication is-'yes, this is right'. This fits with this theme.
Just an fyi--you have a typo near the end where the girl goes back to her hut and sees the snow 'read'.
Thanks again--
Jeff - I think it would be hard to think of good topics every week, but it is fun, for sure!
Thank you Sue. I really appreciate that...I would love to read some of your fiction.
This is the first fiction piece I've posted for all the world to see...and I wrote it in half an hour. Imagine that. You know how fiction works, it's either there or it's not.
Thank you Donna!
Thank you Beth! Wow, what compliments. Yes that is how I felt when writing it.
Thanks for the fyi, I missed that one!
ah, as usual, erin, your words are so powerful & deep & cause us to think. thanks for this story...yes, it's a mystery in so many ways.
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