As the sun descended towards the hills, the villagers prepared to accept the transition. The children playing in the square and in the streets willed the sun to halt in its progression, that their playtime might be extended. Those still stuck with chores rushed to complete them before darkness settled over the land. Some scurried to and from the well, carrying buckets first light and then laden down, taking water their mothers needed for preparing dinner. The craftsmen and merchants laid down their tools and straightened their wares as others completed their final purchases, obtaining the last items needed for the evening meal or to keep the darkness at bay. Out in the fields, the men and older sons left their labors and began their journeys in to the meals that would await them.
Journeying along the road into the village, they greeted their friends coming off their fields. On the way, they came upon an old woman likewise making her way towards the village. She moved slowly yet deliberately. Her grey clothes hung loosely. Patches dotted them haphazardly. At one time her clothing may have been brightly colored but now the dust of many journeys covered them. A stranger to the parts, no one greeted her and few even noticed her. Instead they stepped quickly around and continued on.
By the time the old woman approached the village the road was otherwise empty. All of the villagers had made their way around her, arriving at their homes. Entering the village, she stopped and knocked at the first door. It was opened by a young girl who stared into the woman's face. The girl's gaze quickly turned away as she examined the woman's tattered clothes.
From inside the house, a woman's voice called, "Who's there, dear?"
The girl didn't answer, but continued staring. Footsteps could be heard approaching the door and her mother appeared behind her. The wanderer spoke, "Could you share a morsel with a weary traveler?"
The mother pulled her child inside, stated "We've nothing for you here", and closed the door.
At the next house, the door was opened to the old woman's knock by a small boy. Upon seeing the visitor, he turned and ran back into the depths of the house. An older girl, his sister came to the door. After the old woman repeated her request, a voice from within called, "Take her this and send her on her way."
The boy reappeared, handing something to his sister. She pressed a stale crust of bread into the woman's hand and closed the door.
She made her way into the village, obtaining a scrap here, a morsel there, and nothing at the next. No one invited her in. No one asked her to linger. As she reached the village square, the last of the children were hurried inside. Reaching the well, she drew herself water. She sank to the ground, propping herself against the well. Pulling her clothes about her as best she could, she began eating what she had gathered.
Back on the road, another traveler approached the village. He moved swiftly carried by his fleet mount. He held himself tall and proud. His clothes were carefully wrought with bright colors and exquisite patterns. His fine, long cloak flowed down around his horse, keeping the chill evening air from him.
Arriving in the village, he alighted nimbly and knocked upon the door. As it opened, a gleam from inside fell upon him, lightly illuminating his features. The occupants excitedly beckoned him in.
Soon the door opened again, light spilling once more from the doorway onto the street. The girl emerged carrying two buckets and made her way to the well. Carefully avoiding the old woman, she filled the buckets for the visitor to cleanse himself. Again the door opened and a man emerged. He went quickly to his neighbor's house, inviting them to come and welcome the traveler. As the evening progressed more doors opened. People spilled out bearing with them drink and food to share. Soon the festivities outgrew the first village house and flowed into the street and then into the square. Doors opened, and were left, the lights within brightening the street.
A fire was lit in the square, dispelling the darkness from its reach, flickering shadows beyond. The villagers brought their food and drink and shared freely. Someone struck up a tune; others danced.
Their guest was presented with the finest food and the smoothest drink. Everyone wanted to hear from him, hanging on every word.
Seeking a rest, he settled upon the far side of the well, obscured in the darkness. There he discovered the old woman. Looking up at him, the shadows dancing across his face, she asked him, "Sir, who are you that you are warmly welcomed in this village? Are you a favorite son returning home?"
"No", he responded, "I've not been here before".
"Well then, surely you must be a great, beloved prince journeying amongst his subjects?"
"No. I hold no lofty position or title."
"Then, sir", she persisted, "perhaps you are a mighty hero or warrior welcomed for having freed the people from some danger."
"No", he replied. "I am none of these things, though I tell of each one. I relate the mighty deeds of the hero, vanquishing enemies. I tell of the mercies of the noble prince and the horrors visited upon the people by the tyrant. I spread the news of the dear wanderer that has returned."
"Sir, what is your name?"
"I am Story", he answered and, turning to her, inquired, "And what is your name, my fellow traveler?"
"I am Truth", she stated. "Everyone rejoices at your coming, but turns me away."
Rested, Story arose. Beckoning to Truth, he called, "Come, join the festivities, eat and dine with us."
Truth turned her head and replied, "No, I would spoil your party. I will remain here alone".
"That won't do", Story responded. Pausing to thoughtfully consider, he suggested, "My cloak is large enough for both of us. Come and I shall wrap it around us both. Then we can both share in the festivities."
Acquiescing, she allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. With a deft twirl of his cloak, he artfully covered them both.
On a cool evening if you are lucky, you may hear a knock at your door. Upon opening it, you may discover Story standing there. Invite him in and share what you have with him, as he will do likewise with you. However, be aware that Story and Truth became travel partners. If you look carefully, you may glimpse Truth peeking out from inside the folds of Story's cloak.
Copyright 2005-2006 by Jeff Thompson.