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Night
crept stealthily on, day was swiftly
waning as I gazed in silent wonder at the
beauty all around me, never cursing, ne'er
profaning, praising God for all I could
see, and I wondered if another praised the
Master same as me.
From
within a Spirit told me that there was a
beast who didn't, and a Voice kept
calling, haunting me to go and find this
beast who didn't. But I sighed and let it
go unheeded, for I knew of no enormous
beast, until the voice faintly died away,
as embers to a red-hot flame.
Sometime
later the great temptation wrought upon my
soul a picture: Far, far away in a ghostly
woodland of old, angry and vicious, a man
(or beast) lived, in agony, his pestilent
days away. Unconscious of this world and
the one to come, he had naught to live
for.
Existing
in mind and body, In vain he strove to
conquer agony. His soul was lost and
bitter and happiness very vague. Wretched
and empty his life remained, a horrible
picture of terror. Tossing and turning
hysterically, his thoughts had no end.
Blindly he groped for the great antidote
to terror—sleep. To no avail. I watched,
amazed, wondering what would be his next
movement. In my heart a great shadow of
pity arose, pity for this forsaken living
creature; yes, forsaken by the world and
God—He had forsaken them.
I
turned. I saw his lips move, yet no sound
he uttered. Then . . . "They told me
there was a Great One, I can recall their
strange voices, but what was it they
said?" He did not know I could hear
him, but I saw him as he lay there In
deep, tortured hope of recalling what they
had said. "I slept, I dreamed,"
he murmured, "Long ago, it was—oh,
long, long ago! If only I could sleep now,
maybe the Vision would come again."
Stunned
and bewildered, I stood as one
dumbfounded. A great feeling of
responsibility arose in me, a feeling that
I must help this wretched one whose life
was hopelessly a pattern of desolation.
The
voice of night was calm and still as I
stood in silent wonder. The moon shone
forth and its great light illuminated the
face of the sleepless one. I marveled at
the oddity of it all. Once, outside, I was
certain I heard a voice, but upon
listening closely, I heard only the voice
of night whispering my name softly.
Suddenly
peace fled from me as terror surrounded my
entire being. Imagined beasts and greater
images of ghosts of ancient historical
periods haunted me. Furiously my mind was
in a whirl of bitter antagonism. Who was
this wretched one lying alone, who spoke
of a Great One? What was the meaning of it
all?
My
better senses returned. I heard a low moan
from the man who lay nearby. His eyes were
fluttering like a madman. In vain he
strove to rise from the bed. His lips
moved but there was no sound. Or was I
deaf that I did not hear the words his
lips said? I stared. Surely he was in a
fit of terror. He did not seem to see me
as he violently kicked and raged. What was
I to do?
"Wretch!"
I cried, "have you no sense of
contentment? No peace of mind? Where is
the soul of you? Wretch!" again I
cried. Then . . . His eyes opened.
Recognition was plain on his face. Now his
lips moved and sound came to me. "So
it's you," he said simply. Had I
heard right, or was I dreaming? No, I was
not dreaming. There was his face before
me. He stared beyond me, seemingly looking
at some far distant object of unusual
interest. "There it is, finally—the
vision. They told me it would come; I did
not believe them, but there it is. Peace,
oh, peace at last."
His
eyes closed, a smile on his lips, he was
gone. Forever his soul had vanished into a
sweet peace of a certain eternity.
Copyright © 1949 Ruth Gillis
********
In
this ghostly woodland of old dwelt a beast
in human form, who had once belonged to God,
body, soul, and entire being, Holy as the
purest fountain, acceptable in the sight of
God.
Yes, once he was true as the truest,
being a vessel of the Lord: an humble
servant of worthy statue, living only with
one accord; living so that others soon saw
his works and were amazed. Ah, yes! he was a
Christian being, a living furnace of the
Lord. He was happy, peace was in him, no
hysterics, pain, or fear; the richest human
being; he had nothing, but he had
everything, he had the love of God. He lived
daily by the Love Light that shone so
luminously and bright. He gave no thought to
disobedience or the means of turning back.
Ah, one day, 'twas in the springtime,
softly the leaves were sweetly praying in
the Peaceful Forest of Goodness, where he
dwelt in those happy days. Happily the birds
were singing hymns to his proud ear, when
seemly out of nowhere a solid figure
appeared before him: an angel with a crown
as gleaming as the golden rising sun. In her
hand she held a torch, flaming, beaming with
the fire. Her wings were set with flashing
diamonds, emeralds and the rarest jewels.
Ah, indeed, the trees stopped their
praying and the birds became as silent, and
the brook ceased its merry play, entranced.
As for the man, he was a statue, intently
gazing upon the angel. Then sweetly spoke
the angel with a voice as soft as clouds,
echoing in the silent forest, enchanting the
very earth. "If thou ever turnest
backward, o thou man, how dreadful then! The
fate that will follow still remains the
secret of I and only I! But at the very
ending of thy great and awful plague, the
peaceful vision shall give thee comfort and
exceeding joy. Ah, but oh, don't take the
chances, o, thy sir, live on in faith! Don't
be tempted by the devil; overcome and thy
joy is great! But remember what I tell you,
don't forget thy awful fate. Live on in
faith abundant and thy reward will be made
great." Like a flash she was vanished.
He stood like a carven statue, puzzling over
the meaning of the warning. Surely he would
not turn back, he of so great faith!
From amid the haughty foes came the
devils. With their mighty power they
convinced him to change. With rage he cursed
the forest, and slowly, surely, it changed
into a forest of bitter pestilence. He was
consumed in the midst, a raving creature, a
beast in human form. He was tormented with
every plague. There was no rest. He tried to
sleep; it would not come. Ah, how little he
remembered of the angel!
One hundred years passed. He had had no
comfort. It was early spring but the Forest
of Pestilence gave forth no signs of
springtime. The Death Wind howled
mysteriously. The beast kicked with rage,
cursing violently. From a distance the faint
voice came: "Wretch! Have you no sense
of contentment? No peace of mind? Wretch!
Where is the soul of you?" Then a
strange awakening came. With the eyes of an
overjoyed child, he saw the Vision! The
warning angel appeared in her glory and
radiant brightness. To her rear was a new
and holy city with a wall great and high,
which had twelve gates with twelve angels at
the gates. The building was of jasper, the
gates of finest pearl. The street was of
pure gold. The face of God was the light.
Turning to look closer, the man saw afar
a pure river of life, clear as crystal,
coming out of the throne of God. Slowly, bit
by bit, the beat of his heart beat with the
flowing water until his remaining life ebbed
away, as the water continued to flow through
the Holy City.
Copyright
© 1949 Ruth Gillis
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