LIBERTY ...Or Else!!!Dec 23 '02 Write an essay on this topic.
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The Bottom Line In celebration of the Season, a fiction that is a fact of love, peace filled with goodwill and wishes of good cheer! Happy Holidays!!
During this time of year it's always nice to reflect. Reflect on the year's happiness and accomplishments. Reflect on those things so endearing to us and to our lives. It's also the time to be thankful. To remember those who have filled our lives to their fullest. To remember those things MOST important in our lives. But, most of all, to thank God for having brought all these things together, placing them into our humble lives and us into their very midst. In celebration of the Season, I'd like to share one of the blessings we, as Americans, take for granted as our inalienable rights. And, a bit of fiction I created some years ago to commemorate the most precious gift with which we all have been graced through the merest act of our having been born upon these shores. I hope you find it entertaining. I hope it touches your hearts in the manner in which it moved me to write it. **************************************************************************************************** "They say this is one of the cruelest winters they ever seen in these parts." Letting the armload of wood he'd been carrying fall thunderously to the hard-packed, frozen floor of the cabin, he chafed his hands, trying to get the circulation started and dispel the numbness in his nearly frozen fingers. A few feet away, a young man--a mere boy of fifteen, actually--warmed his hands by the waning fire in the rough hewn fireplace. His wood had just been placed onto the dying embers, not yet dry enough to catch. Smoke wafted into the room, causing the blue-gray eyes to squint and tear. He glanced in the direction of the muted cries behind the curtain dividing the one common room into two. The anxiety he felt was apparent in his eyes. As he waited, listening to the labored breathing from behind the curtain, they changed. Their usual brightness replaced by a dull denim shade of blue. How long could this go on? "Matt, no use fretting over what's happ'nin' back there. My Janie's takin' care a it. "'Sides, Cassie's a strong girl. And, at her age it'll be over'n no time. You jus' mark my word." With extreme effort, the blue-gray eyes pulled themselves away from the curtain, refocusing them on the man who'd joined him before the fireplace. He wondered if in a few years he, Matthew Daniel Keyes, would resemble Cutter. Would his bright blue-gray eyes simply grow more faded and listless as time passed? The thick chestnut brown thatch of hair lose its luster? His healthy robust skin become less moist, being constantly at the unrelenting mercy of wind and sun? All before--or like Cutter, a few months past--his twentieth birthday. Sighing, heavily, he appraised the man beside him. At twenty, Jamison "Cutter" Nathan Keyes appeared to be ten years older. His dark brown hair already shot through with errant strands of silver, his face wearing the evidence of the past three or four year's toil of the land deeded him. Payment for his courage. Not for having fought any great war or battle. For having the courage to leave all he, wife Jane and their two-year-old son William had known back home in England. Gave it all up to come to the New World. Here, was freedom from poverty, from religious persecution, from political loyalties. In this brave new world, a man could stake his claim on a plot of land knowing it to be his as long as he was willing to work it. No one would threaten their safety because of their religious beliefs. Working the land for their own food, they would not go hungry, would not have to steal to stay alive. On a narrow oak bunk lay Matt's nephew, William. Cutter and Janie had almost lost little William to dysentery on their voyage over. Three years later, he was as healthy as any five year old and heartier than most. Soon, Matt anticipated, he'd hold his own in his own arms. "Cutter, I was wondering. Was it worth the trip coming to America? The filthy, crowded ship and near 'bout losing your son? No place to call home for pretty near a year? You still sure--down really deep--you made the right choice... coming here and all?" For a long while, Cutter said nothing. When Matt had all but given up on an answer, Cutter went to one of the cabin's walls and moved one of the logs. Inside was a tiny, dark space between the inner and outer walls. He drew out a brittle, dog-earred sheet of paper and presented it to his younger brother. After reading it, Matt reverently returned the parchment to his brother. "I saved this for you... and for William when he's older. In America, I choose how I wanna live. I had to leave my homeland to do it, but so be it. "Now the British thinks we are too free. They wanna change that. I for one will stand with whoever wants to fight to stay free. I want my son to know what it really means to be free." Cassie's scream broke into their conversation, reverberating through the room with piercing clarity. Almost as if in answer to her scream, a small, yet amazingly strong wee cry came from the room behind the curtain. The two men shared a moment of wonder at the miracle of birth. Then . . . "Matt, here say hello to your son. A healthy little thing, and lively little pipes, too." Janie placed the latest addition to the Keyes family in his father's arms before returning to finish her delivery duties behind the curtain. Matt could not take his eyes from the tiny, scrunched up face, red with indignation. He'd never seen anything so small, so vulnerable in his life. Then, he understood his brother's obsession with remaining on free soil. No words now seemed adequate to express the feelings inside. But, a look at his older brother's face told him, no words were required. Thank you one and all, as always, for reading and commenting. Hope this little gift of mine to you will warm your hearts. May you be blessed on this glorious time in celebration of our Lord's birth. And may you and yours share the gift of peace. God Bless America! Happy Holidays, and may the spirit of the season dwell within you. Reprinted courtesy of author, E Rouchelle (LEDOMAINE) from original posting on personal website, Ledomaine.net. Copyright, 1997.  |
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