Category Archives: Fiction

Children’s Stories for the Reality TV Generation

Pass it along

Being a father and then a grandpa has been a wonderful thing. Especially for a story teller like me. I tell all the classics, like the Little Red Hen, the Ugly Duckling, the Five Pennies and more. Among original stories, toddler Lorna loved my ‘Dragon that Wouldn’t Share’ more than my other tales. My kids and then grandkids always loved my version of Three Little Pigs. ‘Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin.’ I do a very good big bad wolf. Of course over the years I kind of changed it up some and especially now for the Reality TV generation .

Others in the past have done the same: James Thurber in his Modern Fables for Our Times, ends the Little Red Riding story with this cautionary line: “Little girls aren’t as easy to fool these days as they used to be!”

So this is the telling of my grandchildren’s favorite version of:

Goldilocks and the Three Bears (or Those Three Little Pigs)

imageOnce upon a time there were three Bears who lived in a little cottage in the middle of the woods. It was Saturday morning and in preparation of the noon kickoff of the West Virginia Mountaineer football game, the big screen TV had recently arrived.

Grandpa Bear might have been a WVU mascot and his portrait hung on the wall.
Grandpa Bear might have been a WVU mascot and his portrait hung on the wall.

Mama bear had prepared popcorn and BBQ wings but a check of the refrigerator showed the dismal supply of beverages and no ice at all.

“I know,” Mama Bear suggested, “I can stop at the Piggly-Wiggly and get some of that dip you like while I pick up pop and Papa Bear can drop me off while he goes after beer.” So all three of them left the house, hopped in their 1983 Chevette and took off through the woods, leaving a house full of snacks unattended just a few hours till game time.

Meantime, the three little Pigs living next door were stewing. “Smell that?” said one. “BBQ wings.” “Yeah she makes the best wings, and we’re not invited.” One jumped on the other. “We got kicked out ’cause you kept bringing up Pitt.” “No. no. It was the mess you made.” “Me?!? Mister sticky hands sitting on the couch.” “You eat wings with your fingers.” One defended. “Maybe that’s why you’re messy; you don’t have fingers!” The fight was getting louder when their brother hushed them. “Come here. Look!”

It's not they were bad neighbors, but the three pigs were bad guests and had worn out their welcome.
It’s not they were bad neighbors, but the three pigs were bad guests and had worn out their welcome.

“What is that? Is that a little girl?” The other smiled “Yes and she looks lost trying to get into the gate at the Bear’s House.” They all smiled. “Maybe we should help.” The little girl was cold and frightened when she saw the Pigs approach her. They lifted the latch on the gate that she could not reach. They pushed her toward the door. “Hello!” Shouted one Piggie as he turned the door knob open. “They’re not here,” clarified another “We saw them drive to OOOOFF.” He gasped with a hard elbow to the rib. “Hello? There is a little lost girl here who is hungry.”

They took her to the table where the first little pig sat down in Papa Bear’s chair and began to eat up a whole bowl of wings. He did reach one to the hungry little girl. She ate it up. The Second little pig sat at Mama Bear’s chair and ate a whole bowl of finger sandwiches and half a bowl of chips. The third little pig sat in Baby Bear’s chair and ate a whole bowl of chicken nuggets and the rest of the chips. The little girl cried because she was still hungry.

The Pigs moved to the living room. The oldest took the whole couch. “See,”one of the younger pigs said, pointing to the BBQ sauce he was getting all over the couch. The second pig filled Mama Bears chair and quickly made it slouch to one side. The third pig climbed into Baby Bears chair and broke it down completely. They flipped on the big screen tv to watch the Mountaineer Gameday pre-game show while eating popcorn. The little girl stopped crying as she scrambled to eat up the popcorn mess the pigs were making on the floor.

After a few minutes the pigs were getting groggy. “Too much time til game time. I’m gonna find a place to sleep.” The oldest said, climbing the stairs to the bedrooms. “Then we should take her too,” said another at the little girl popcorn covered and asleep on the messy floor.

They turned the volume on the TV down as the pigs took the little girl upstairs and laid her in Baby Bears bed. Then they crashed on the beds for a quick nap. They hadn’t been asleep long when they heard the Bears arrive. “Boys, boys,” the oldest Pig shook his brothers. “The Bears are back, quick: out the window.” One asked, “What about her?” “Leave her! She’ll be fine.”

Mama Bear screamed when she saw the mess. “Somebody ate all my wings!” said Papa Bear. “Somebody ate all the food,” echoed Mama Bear. Baby Bear cried when he saw his empty bowl so Mama Bear picked him up and said, “There. There.”

“It’s probably coons.” papa Bear said, “It’s always the coons.” Mama Bear took Baby Bear into the living room to rock him. Her shriek made Papa Bear rush in. “My chair,” she said, “My couch!” said Papa Bear. Baby Bear cried when he saw his broken chair. Mama Bear picked him up and said, “There. There.” But she turned a wicked scowl at Papa Bear. “This all looks mighty familiar.”

“The Pigs.” Papa Bear muttered. But Mama Bear prevailed, “We can’t just accuse them. Let me put Baby Bear to bed and I’ll clean this mess up.” Papa Bear agreed, and turned up the volume because the game was about to start. He had barely found a nearly-BBQ-free spot on the couch when he heard Mama Bear yell and rushed up stairs.

Mama Bear could only point to the tow-headed baby girl sleeping in Baby Bear’s bed. “A human,” he whispered loudly, “Didn’t I tell you it was?” Mama Bear whispered back angrily, “you said the Pigs.” Papa Bear whispered back, “No, you said Pigs, I said it was the coons again.”

But the whispering argument woke the little girl who sat up screeming when she saw three bears. She leaped out of the bed, ran down the stairs, out the still open front door and off into the dark forest.

Mama and Papa Bear continue to argue about who said what, whether they should go help the girl or wait till after the game, and who might have left the front door open when they went for beverages.

And this is the true story of the Three Bears and how Goldilocks gets the blame for something those Three Little Pigs did every time this story is told.

And I would be wise to quit here. It always gets a laugh out of the grandkids and is the perfect ending.

But, as I said others have changed these stories before me, so before we move away from the Three Little Pigs, here is another version I heard when I was six (back in 1959):

Once upon a time there were three little pigs. One day the three little pigs stopped into a Malt Shop. The first little pig ordered a Chocolate Malt. The second little pig ordered a Strawberry Malt. But the third little pig ordered forty-four glasses of cold ice water.

imageBut you shouldn’t think that is anything unusual. After all: somebody has to go wee wee wee all the way home.

Pass it along

Sincere (Chapter One, Part One)

Pass it along

image

“Sanctuary”
By Gary Lee Stuber

imageis name was Sineer, the son of a Sin-Eater, and he was a petty thief. He was very young not yet out of his teens, and thin and somewhat lanky. His wirey form was what gave him his nimbleness and dexterity as he found himself under the cover of darkness slipping into houses and purloining the valuables of the residents of those homes. To look at him he would have seemed quite natural placed against the background of a servant son, or the son of a peasant; not having the distinguishing charm of nobility or wealth. Rather he was raised with the fundamentals of the poor and wanting: full of the curiosities of the world and what spoils that slyness might gain him. His fear of God was limited to what was brought onto him by those in authority within the church. He bowed, now, in the presence of the priests, after his first smack across his back because he looked one in the eyes with his stiff-necked stare. His moral values somewhat less defined he did have a consuming sense of fairness for his fellow peasant class. He was always ready to jump into a fight when he felt someone was treated unfairly. In some quarters, his face was at this young age already posted as a wanted man, who for assault should have been packed off in a warship for military service.

I called him a petty thief, even though, when he tried, he was very good at his craft, but, it seems that his ambitions were never more than petty — bread, meat, a bottle of ale or two — sometimes a warm blanket or coat. These he accumulated successfully and often. Unless, his theft resulted in some one poorer than himself who would be left without a coat for the winter. His sense of fairness then would force him to break back in to return it, or replace it with something similar lifted elsewhere. He was content with life as it was, that is until his last and greatest act of crime.

An Abbey nearby seemed the most improper of targets, however, it was known to have the richest of treasures. The abode of a half dozen clerics, monks and priests and those who served among them; this was the house of God where the souls of the guilty and the lost went to bribe back the favor of God and the hope of admittance into Heaven. And because of the sins of the wealthy lords nearby, the anterooms were filled with indulgences — that proper bribe from the poor that God, through his priests expected for the forgiving of sins. Livestock of all types: horses, goats, swine, sheep, chickens, poulette, quail, doves — all slept quietly in barns. Bread, meats, wheat, barley, oats, ales, wine, salt, brine, all rested on dry floors. Metals: gold, sliver, bronze, iron and more mixed with generous portions of agate and precious stones or gems sat behind locked doors. And while it all belonged to God, it was the priests and clerics which used it, somewhat generously for their own comfort.

Getting behind locked doors was somewhat easier when accomplished through the roof. Waiting out the fat clerics who occupied the treasure rooms as part-time guards was another matter. And the two beneath him, while indulging in some bread and meat, engaged each other in conversation, reading from scrolls as they ate.
____”God would let murders get away with it?” one said.
____”Well, not murderers, exactly. But if you accidentally or perhaps unintentionally killed someone, then yes. God gave you a method to avoid the death penalty.” said another.
____”How is this possible?” asked the first. The second pulled out a scroll and brought his finger through it until he came to a place where he began to read.
____”Here in the Book of Joshua, it says: the Lord also spake unto Joshua, saying, speak to the children of Israel, saying, appoint out for you cities of refuge, whereof I spake unto you by the hand of Moses: that the slayer that killeth any person unawares and unwittingly may flee thither: and they shall be your refuge from the avenger of blood. And when he that doth flee unto one of those cities shall stand at the entering of the gate of the city, and shall declare his cause in the ears of the elders of that city, they shall take him into the city unto them, and give him a place, that he may dwell among them. And if the avenger of blood pursue after him, then they shall not deliver the slayer up into his hand; because he smote his neighbour unwittingly, and hated him not beforetime. And he shall dwell in that city, until he stand before the congregation for judgment, and until the death of the high priest that shall be in those days: then shall the slayer return, and come unto his own city, and unto his own house, unto the city from whence he fled.” When he finished reading both looked at each other as if in amazement, one with a mouthful finally saying.
____”Killing somebody without punishment.”
____”Not exactly,” said the other. “It is punishment enough, having to live there for the rest of your life, so long as the high priest lived.” The second laughed.
____”He’d have to kill him.” They both laughed and their laughter caught the attention of someone outside the door. Abruptly, they were called away, leaving Sineer alone with his booty.

It was like a dream: he dropped from the rafters swiftly moving about the treasure selecting only that which he could carry and lift through his crawl space along the roof. Mostly practical stuff or that which struck his fancy. Long before dawn he had managed to accumulate more than he could carry and had packed it into a hollow tree some five hundred steps east of the main gate. He left the stuff that would not spoil and carried off the food towards home.

Whether it was his conscience, or perhaps the burden — or just the solitude of the woods — but he began to contemplate the consequences of his act. His own now deceased father had made a career of taking on the sins of the wealthy and he imagined him now in hell paying for the sins of many men. Was he robbing God? Would God punish him for this selfish act? How would the poor eat? There were those whose only meals in some weeks was the bread and wine offered at communion meal. His burden grew greater with every step; with every thought. It was as he passed a hamlet in the glen that he realized that his burden could be somewhat lightened. With a new heart, he began to take sack after sack of meats and vegetables and bread into the homes in the twilight, leaving it at the hearth for the occupants of find in the morning. He chuckled at himself as the thought about his theft in reverse, breaking in to leave instead of take. Oh, he imagined, how God must be laughing too, pleased with him now. He returned home in such joy with the remaining spoils.

Two days later, it was his fortune, no — his duty — to return to the abbey with the other residents of his own hamlet to bribe God. (it was also opportunity to quietly collect the remains of his spoils out of the hollow tree). As he passed through the hamlet he had benefited, he was stunned to see it burned down. The houses and barns and shacks in ashes, everything gone, but his own compliance in its demise did not strike him until he saw them, the men and women hanging just outside the small village and on their bodies were words written that he could not read:  thief, liar, robber of God, blasphemer, and Servant of Satan.

He had a sick feeling as he walked in through the outer gate where armed soldiers everywhere held crude pens of men, women and children awaiting sentencing. The Lord of the kingdom sat in the judgement seat, erected in the square of the abbey, his expression one of intolerance. His own royal guard stood taller than the abbey guard, which looked shabby and smaller standing close to them. He had a number of small, dirty children detained in front of him as he addressed the crowd.
____”Even the children have been taught to lie! They speak of a good generous spirit who came in the night and brought them food from God. Like their parents, they refuse to admit their sin — their own act of theft or that of others on their behalf and instead indulge us with lies.
____”Or perhaps they are not lies. Perhaps they serve a malevolent spirit who lies and steals for them what they cannot. Either way, they too, like their parents are beyond redemption. They too must be punished for their many sins and crimes…”
____”Please,” shouted one of the fat priests, one in a robe which also covered his head so that only his red beard emerged from it. “These are children. Surely they are not beyond redemption.”
____”They are liars and thieves and blaspheme against Christ and the Church.” The Lord, whose name escaped Sineer, shouted with such venom that it silenced any further rebellion among the clergy.
____”Wait!” Sineer shouted, almost instinctively, defending those of his class being treated unfairly. “Perhaps they do not lie. What if someone — someone else — did this awful act and then, without their knowledge, shared it with them?” All eyes turned in his direction. This was an unheard of act. A peasant addressed the Lord of the Kingdom without bowing, or petitioning for an audience or following proper etiquette or protocol. A priest as an emissary of God, might get away with this but not a peasant. Worse, his words contemplated by the emotional audience had aroused both their curiosity and their suspicion.

The Lord’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the peasant boy, who quickly averted his stare. He even had to raise a hand to stop some of the dark garbed soldiers from moving in his direction.
____”Please, your highness.” the boy said, more humble now as he looked at the ground, “Consider this as a possibility.”
____”What is your name, insolent one?”
____”Sineer, Sire.”
____”Sin-ear?” The angry man rose to his feet, “Tell me, Sin-ear, insolent and rebellious one, what man would blaspheme God, rob Him and then place the sin upon the heads of innocent men, women and children?” Sineer thought about at first, just keeping his mouth shut, but the guilt of his conscious would not let him.
____”Perhaps, your highness, one who thought he was doing God’s will by sharing food from a pantry that sat molding while those locked outside went hungry. Perhaps such a man would do this.”
____”God’s will?” the Lord continued to vent. “And what do you know of God’s will? Do you know anything of Christ’s sacrifice for you — for the world? Can you utter any of the seven things he uttered from the cross? God’s will indeed. You expect me to set justice aside and give to these people what YOU think they deserve. Because it is God’s will?”

Sineer held his peace, relieved that perhaps no others might die for his sins.
____”Sergeant, give these people what they deserve.” The Lord said almost casually as he sat back down.
____”SIr?” the confused officer asked.
____”For the wages of sin is death!” He clarified, “Kill all the prisoners?”
____”No!” Shouted the priest who had interrupted earlier, “This is improper. Even Christ himself…”
____”WAIT!” Sineer shouted above the groans and shouts of the crowd, above the priests and clergy and the noise of the crowd, “These people are innocent. They did not steal the food.” The noise of the crowd hushed as they waited for an answer.
____”Sergeant, hold your men,” the Lord was standing again. “And how do you know this?” The guards instinctively moved from their prisoners to Sineer, nearly surrounding him.
____”Because, I did it.” The crowd breathed in with his revelation. “I did this thing and then I parceled out the food to those who did not know I had stolen it. I thought I was appeasing God. I imagined him laughing, happy and pleased with me for feeding his poor. And now, I am guilty of killing them, even as I had no intention to do it. I alone deserve death. Spare them. Take only me.”
____”Such a noble act and out of character for one so guilty.” The Lord brushed his own short scraggly beard. “Do you think your confession now absolves you of your crime and your sin?”
____”No.” Sineer mumbled, “Only that others do not die for my sins.”
____”Maybe you feign this so that your partners can go free. Or maybe you are yourself innocent and just give over yourself because these are family as well as partners. One for the many? Where is your proof?”
____”I came a good distance,”Sineer explained, “and I could not carry all the spoils. So I hid them in a tree barely five hundred steps from the east gate, toward the creek. I meant to come back to claim them today. If I had partners among your prisoners, they would have escaped your wrath, and found a way to warn me away. Or if they knew of the treasure would have stolen my loot and fled. The loot is my proof that I acted alone. Go and see and you will know I alone am responsible. I did not know I was sharing my guilt with others or ruining their lives. I thought my act was feeding the poor.” With a wave of the Lord’s hand, some of the guard were out of the gate in the direction that Sineer indicated.They were soon back and nodded to the man on the dias.
____”Your sin has only brought the vengeance of God upon the people you tried to help. You, not me, not the church, were responsible for what happened to these people. God will punish you for your sin. God will pay you back for what you have done this day. I can only offer earthly justice as slim as it is for your crimes.
____”For your crime of theft,” the Lord continued without a pause, “I absolve you of this crime, this sin against Christ and his church, just as He pardoned the thief from his own cross. But for your crime of placing the crime on others who suffered because of your crime, losing their own lives, you will be tied to a stake here in this place until you perish from the lack of food and water. None shall give you aid, none shall give you food. None shall give you water, except the spit of those whose families you have killed here today. But after death, God will see to it that your soul is damned to an eternal hell, where you will never see comfort or peace again but only the living, burning flames of torment.”
____”Please, your highness,” The red-bearded priest interrupted again, this time pulling the shroud off of his head to reveal his grey-templed red hair, balding at the top. “Are you speaking now for God, too? There has been too much blood spilled already.
____”Many of us have pleaded for these people before this man arrived.” He continued to a stunned Lord. “You have ignored all of our pleas for mercy and have arrogantly pursued your own form of justice. You cannot absolve your own part in this by putting your sins, then your judgement, upon the shoulders of one who admits to only an act of theft with good intentions. Barely more than a child, he admits to his sins, and offers himself for proper punishment. He cannot utter Christ’s words, because we have failed him, but with his heart he reaches for Heaven’s forgiveness. What sins do you confess?”

The Lord, much to the shock of the crowds around him, dropped to his knees and raised his arms toward Heaven. “Lord forgive me my sins. In my zeal for justice I have made your square run red with the blood of the innocent. Forgive my zeal and my ignorance. Make me your servant again, worthy to rule your people righteously.” For a moment everyone held their peace — servant, soldier, priest and peasant — all stood motionless barely knowing how to proceed.
____”Let the innocent prisoners go,” the Lord shouted, “And divide the spoils found in the tree among them. I will make up the difference to the Vatican from my own treasury back to this church, and a great generous gift for my part as well.”
____”And what of the thief?” The arrogant priest wanted clarification.
____”He must die. He must pay the just price for causing the deaths of so many.”
____”Father forgive us as we forgive those who trespass against us,” The priest quoted, “You would ask that God forgive you and punish only your enemies?”
____”Sebastian,” the Lord said, rising from his knees, “Would you have me set free one who set into motion so much sin and death? And what of justice to the families standing here who want his head?”

Then it happened. The moment that changed everything. Before Sebastian could even open his mouth to speak, Sineer opened his mouth and spoke. it was a gift he had as a child; the ability to recall word for word what was spoken to him in another place, another time. The words caught the attention of both the Lord and Sebastian:
____”Appoint out for you cities of refuge, whereof I spake unto by the hand of Moses: that the slayer that killeth any person unawares and unwittingly may flee thither; and they shall be your refuge from the avenger of blood. And when he that doeth flee unto one of those cities shall stand at the entering of the gate of the city, and shall declare his cause in the ears of the elders of that city, they shall take him into that city unto them, and give him a place, that he may dwell among them.

The Lord and Sebastian just stared at him incredulously. Did he actually know what he was saying. Was it perhaps coincidental or intentional and partially divine. After a long uncomfortable moment, Sebastian turned to the Lord and spoke.
____”Let the punishment fit the crime. He asks for sanctuary in the Abbey under the old testament principal of refuge. Confine him to the church, to this Abbey where he will serve the poor whom he wronged for as long as I live.”
____”A good and prudent punishment.” The Lord said, “Thus I give you the punishment given unto the children of Israel whose act in ignorance ended in the killing of someone who was innocent. Fly ye to the church and it will be for you, your walled City of Refuge just as in Canaan. And you will remain there for as long a child of Israel was to remain — for the entire life of the high priest. Now go…”

Sebastian and some of the other priests moved to Sineer and pushed him toward the inner gates of the abbey. As prisoners were being released they and the crowd began to understand that this young man, this prisoner, was the reason for all their misery and that he was going away unpunished. The crowd clearly didn’t agree with the judgement and began picking up stones and threw them. One priest who still stood on the platform pulled back his cloak as well, revealing a bald head, and yelled to the crowd. “Only the man who could make it alive to his walled refuge was allowed to remain within. It was the right of the family of the dead to try to kill any man so found guilty before he could escape punishment.” His sentiments were clearly with the crowd and he didn’t need to say it more clearly, the vengeful crowd, without the forceful show of the guards who stepped out of their way, rushed the gate, pressing in on Sineer and the few priests who protected him. Sineer now began to run toward the abbey and made it inside with but a minimum of cuts and abrasions from the rough stones thrown from the streets. Sebastian came in after him. His temple was bleeding, the accidental target likely of the mob trying to extact what revenge they could on Sineer before it was too late.
____”Why did you save me?” Sineer asked.
____”That I did not do.” Sebastian said, wiping the blood from his temple. “That I cannot do. Only Christ can do that, if he will. What I did do was to make your punishment more severe. You will work, and work hard long hours – long nights – until you have restored to these people everything you have taken from them: their homes, their livestock, their clothes, their harvests, their trust in God almighty and His sovereignty!” HIs voice was rising and his face became as red as his beard “Before you count this as a blessing, you may well wish that you had died on the stake.”
____”And how long would that punishment last?”
____”Forever” Sebastian said, and as he did a white dove from the ceiling of the great hall they stood in, flew down and lit onto his shoulder, resting there as if it were home, next to the grey-streaked red beard of the portly priest.
____”I mean, how long am I a prisoner here?” Sineer asked, his eyes on the dove.
____”You heard the punishment, you took sanctuary in a Refuge City.”
____”What does that really mean?”
____”I’m sorry!” Sebastian looked frustrated and then shook his massive locks, almost dislodging the dove. “I often forget how ignorant the masses are of scripture. Anyone who took refuge in a refuge city could remain there without retribution for as long as the high priest lived. That would be me. And I expect to live a long, long time. When I die you’re a free man, unless you kill me and then Heaven help you!”
____”And if I just slip out?”
____”Then every man, woman and child out there whom you wronged could hunt you down like a dog and kill you on the spot. Justly, with the blessing of God.
____”I suggest you stay.”

Sebastian may have been a priest, but he might as well have been a prophet. For he predicted the next three years so accurately. Sineer gained twenty-five pound of muscle as he worked all but four hours out of every twenty-four. He bred livestock, he fed livestock, he milked livestock, he butchered livestock. He cleaned livestock pens. He carried water; he carried wood. He cut wood. He planed wood. He drilled wood. He built furniture, mangers, plows, tools, bins and buildings. He thrashed grain, he ground grain, he sifted grain, he separated grain. He mixed flour, he kneaded bread, he baked bread, he served bread. He served water, he served food, medicine, and spent many nights comforting wounded and orphaned children who rose in the night in screams. He even fed and watered “White One,” Sebastian’s pet white dove who was treated with the respect of a priest within the abbey.

He was tired, but proud, and not once did he say to himself, ‘I don’t deserve this…” In fact, sometimes just about sundown when the priests were in prayers and he was left to himself and his chores, he would look out over the balcony at the setting sun and the woods beyond and wonder why God had let him live that day. The words still rang in his ears, “For the wages of sin is death.”

Sometimes at night, he imagined that he had died and felt the licking flames burn at his body, or the smell of charred flesh and melting brimstone. Sometimes in these nightmares he saw them again, the bodies of those whom he was responsible for killing, hanging over the flames, and the words once written on their bodies that he could not read, they cried at him: Liar, Thief, Blasphemer.  He would awake in fear, which would soon change to gratitude that he was still alive and still cheating the fate that waited for him.

If he deserved death, or damnation as the Lord had suggested, why then was he just grateful to be alive. Even though he wondered if there really was a God, and not just some elaborate scheme built by the priests and Lords of this world to extract the livelihood of the poor for themselves. At times like during these sundowns he secretly wished there was. He imagined a good and merciful God – not a vengeful and hateful God trying to extract revenge.

And if there was such a merciful God, and he had the power to to move mountains and men, “then, Lord God Almighty, bring justice and deliverance to the poor, instead of sitting back and letting men rob them, and kill them all in your name. Then,” he thought, “I would know you are real and I would serve you. “Otherwise,” He believed, “God is no better than the men who now serve him.”

One day, sometime during his fifth year as a prisoner, life changed somewhat for the young ex-thief. There was a gathering in the small abbey of some nobelmen and fellow priests. After seeing to their meal and their comfort he stayed pretty much out of their way. The less he interacted with them, the better. There was a number of them who are pretty much silent. Some were genuinely charming, but one among them, a certain bald priest whose name he discovered was Graysant seemed to be both somber and demanding, and was thus accorded the most respect from the rest of them. They brought with them a huge wooden crate, the contents of which were secret, and they did not speak of it when servants like him were within earshot.

A day later, they were all gone, but the crate and its contents remained, sealed into one of the libraries. Sineer had not inquired after the crate but Sebastian like a true prophet, knew of his curiosity in it.
____”What valuable treasure do you think is in it?” Sebastian baited.
____”Who cares?” Sineer tried to feign disinterest.
____”Oh, right.” Sebastian said, “It’s much too large to carry off, even to hide in a tree.”
____”Those days are over” Sineer said angrily, offended, “I’m not a thief.”
____”No? Then what are you? A tradesman perhaps? A carpenter? I know, a miller. No, a baker. No, that’s right: you are a nurse…”
____”Yes. All these and more. At least it’s a more noble calling than priest.” He regretted at once that he said it. There was a moment of silence. Only White One broke the quietness with a coo, perhaps speaking for the large one on whose shoulder he sat.
____”To you, a robber and thief should be given more respect than a priest?”
____”Yes. At least you expect and deal with loss from someone you know fears and hates you, and sneaks in and takes everything you own. But a priest, why, you rob and steal and extract pain while saying, ‘I love you – God loves you’…”
____”You are right!” Sebastian admitted, “There are such priests as these. Do you think I am one of them?”
____”You concern yourself with the poor, so no – not really. Yet, your girth grows wider every day, so your stomach seems to be of greater concern to you than the poor.”
____”For such a remark I could have you scourged.” Sebastian lamented, feeling hurt himself. “Yet, it is the truth and a man should not be beaten for the truth. So, what other truths have you learned here?”
____”The priest Graysant, he’s not like you or some of the other priests. He drives himself for gain and the approval of other men. He tramples the poor underfoot. He uses them like tools. Perhaps if you were in his way, he would trample you too.”

Sebastian laughed out loud so heartily it brought the attention of a number of monks who entered the room to see what was transpiring. Sebastian waved them away.
____”Aren’t you the observant one. You know Abram got a new name change to Abraham and Jacob to Israel. God knew they were much more than the names their father’s gave them. Thus it is that I bestow upon you a new name. You saw sin that day in the square and addressed it. You saw sin in me and you’ve addressed it. You saw sin in Graysant, and that, well is something that may have yet to be addressed. Thus I name you ‘Sin-seer’,  or rather Sincere, for your gift is a good one from God, the perception to discern truth. With a little direction maybe you can put it to good use.”
____”My name is Sineer.” Pride in the youth, made him object, even though he did not find the name objectionable.
____”What is ‘sneer’ anyway but a proud and haughty look. I know your father named you ‘sin-eater’ after himself, but pride is a better name for your sin. God calls pride sin. Yes, ‘sneer’ was a good name for you, back when you looked on every man outside your own class with disgust and disdain while you tried to out-sly them with your craftiness. But Sincere is much more fitting now, and it is the only name I will address you with or let any of my staff recognize you by from this moment on.”
____”Sincere?” The confused youth breathed.
____”Yes.” Sebastian said, “For you see the truth in all you encounter. Now, about that crate. It is a very special treasure and I am entrusting it to you.”
____”To me?”
____”Unpack it in the library and see that nothing happens to it.”

It was a chore that was accepted with joy and with intrepidness. To think that Sebastian actually trusted him. And yet, he wondered if this was a test – or worse – a trap. He opened the crate carefully. Inside were fifty heavy square stones of three fingers in depth by a forearm in length and bredth. Some kind of marks were on one side in parallel rows and filled the entire side, having been cut deep into the stones He knew these were not natural, but some kind of man-created stones. He laid them all out carefully in order on the wooden tables and for two days, kept a constant vigil upon them as if someone were lurking about trying to steal them. On the third day, Sebastian came into the library.
____”Is this all of them?”
____”Did you not count them before the crate was opened? I have not stolen or lost a single thing left in my care.”
____”No, no, my young charge, I did not mean it that way. i was just inquiring if there were more that needed to be unpacked and there was no more table room.”
____”This is all of them.”
____”Wonderful.” Sebastian said, walking along the tables examining each.
____”Pardon my ignorance, sir,” Sincere said, “How do rocks get such uniform shapes and such markings.”
____”Before these were ‘rocks’ these were clay; soft clay, shaped into that which you see them now. Then someone with a sharp stick, called a wedge, pressed it into the clay and made these marks, which are words and numbers. And when they were done, they baked them like bread making the words last forever like rock on these tablets.”
____”How old are these “tablets’?”
____”Old. Very Old. Probably the oldest in the world.”
____”What do they say?”
____”I don’t know.” Sebastian admitted with a sigh. “No one knows.”
____”Graysant?”
____”No. Not even Graysant. The language is lost. No one know what any of these tables say. Perhaps, if we could read them, we might know the great deeds of someone long ago, or maybe we would know more of the world when it was new and God first made it. We might know some of God’s greatest secrets, revealed for the first time to mankind.”
____”Really?”
____”Oh yes. We know whatever these tablets say it must be very sacred and very important. We know this from where they were found, but I cannot say more about that.”
____”What is to become of them?”
____”They must go to Rome. The church will dispose of them?”
____”Dispose?”
____”I suppose. No one ever knows what happens to that which is sent to Rome and is never seen again.”
____”What are they doing here?”
____”Because, some are convinced that they come from God, that they are indeed divinely inspired if not handwritten by God himself. That is why they are indeed import enough that the truth of them – history, knowledge or power – must be known before they vanish from the earth.”
____”Graysant.” it was more of a statement than a question.
____”Yes,” Sebastian nodded with the word, and “White One” ruffled his feathers at the mention of his name, “And I ageed. These must be studied and copied before they are sent to Rome.”
____”And you can do this?”
____”If I were younger with young nimble fingers. For you see, these tablets must be copied to a scroll so meticulously. There is no room for error in a single stroke. No, this is a work for young hands.”
____”Such as the other priests or monks in this abbey?”
____”No.” Sebastian answered almost too quicky “For their work is important too, maybe much more important than this. They copy the scriptures, keeping the Word of God alive, and duplicate copies of it so that every priest has his own scroll with the revealed Word and the Law of God for his instruction, his edification and for the salvation of others in the world.”
____”You can spare none?” Sincere asked, “or you trust none?”
____”You are aptly named my young student,” Sebastian smiled. “I apologize for trying to conceal my real concern from you. This is a valuable work, but a secret one. None other, outside those who brought these tablets here, myself and now, you, must know of the existence of these tablets. This library I have made off limits to all others but myself and you.”
____”Me? Sir, but why?”
____”For this is the work of young and nimble dexterous hands – your hands.”
____”What???!!?”
____”It is a noble work.”
____”But I don’t know letters, I don’t know how to read or write.”
____”No need. You need not know letters to duplicate them. As I said, I don’t know these letters either. No one does. But that aside, you could be taught to read and write. You have an incredible memory, you quoted that day in the square something that you heard only once. Few men have this power. You can memorize these letters, you can duplicate them with ease. It would be easy to teach you to read and to write. However, that is a skill that only a man of the cloth needs to know.”
____”Why should only the priests learn to read?”
____”Unless you are royal or noble born, it is forbidden for any outside the church to have or possess the Word of God that they might learn or teach it in error. This is how the many cults rise, that the church must crush.”
____”So it is forbidden for all but priests to copy tablets such as these?”
____”Oh no,” Sebastian laughed, “You won’t get out of this chore so easily. If need be I will ordain you myself as a priest so that you will do the work.”
____”A priest who does not read?”
____” I will teach you.”
____”But these tablets, if they are the work of God, what right do I – a thief and a blasphemer – the builder of the evil that fell the hamlet of Owen – and damned for all time for it – what right do I have to even touch these tablets?”
____”Is that what you believe? That you are damned for all time? Do you think because you stole bread and shared it with the poor that God holds you in damnation for all time for your mistake?”
____”The overlord said it..’For the wages of sin is death.’ I have earned damnation. So, how do I earn salvation?”
____”Beg God for your life, offer him you life and service…and then, just as I did, he will forgive your sin and permit you a small corner in Heaven.”
____”Sebastian?” Sincere inquired, “Does this men, you serve God because you need his forgiveness.” Sebastian hung his head.
____”It was a lifetime ago. I can’t discuss it.”
____”Cannot these Words of God that you copy, and read – can they show you how to earn salvation?”
____”Perhaps.”
____”Then teach me to read them, and I will find it. And in exchange, I will do this work for you.”
____”Good. We will begin reading at the beginning in the morning.”
____”Must we begin at the beginning?”
____”Where would you have me start?’
____”We could start where the words are written, ‘For the wages of sin is death‘…”

He had been a servant of the church since he was but a youth himself but that night Sebastian became a servant of Jesus Christ. Perhaps it was because he had busied himself all his life with duties and tasks; but for whatever reason he had never read the Book of Romans, written by the Apostle Paul with spiritual eyes until this night. At least, had never read or contemplated it in it’s entirety. Or perhaps he had, but until this moment, had not read it with his eyes and his heart and mind wide open. He found these words staggeringly profound. “For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ.’ Gift? He would spend the remainder of the night contemplating that question, as he read the rest of the book through tear-filled eyes. He would face the rising sun with joy, and the secret burden on his shoulders fell to the stone floor around him. He attended morning prayers with hope, zeal and a renewed heart. And it was with joyful anticipation that he was eager to meet with his young student in the library. He learned the secret his student wanted to know: how to earn salvation. You don’t. It is a free gift. One gift he was eager to show Sincere.  He ran to the library like a giddy child.

End of Part One

(I really hate to break this here. I really do, but this is the halfway point and while the incredible stuff is still to come, you need a break. Continue on to the next post for Chapter One, Part Two. It will be worth your effort.)

For those who think I am participating in bashing the Catholic Church, I am not.  The church in 900 A.D. bears no resemblance to today’s Catholic Church. After 1521 A.D. Thanks to Martin Luthor the Catholic Church cleaned up its doctrine, returning to principals laid out by Christ, and holds to those doctrines that ALL true Christians do: (1) the Bible is God’s true inspired word (2) Christ was born of a virgin, lived a sinless life, gave up his life in exchange for our sins, rose alive on the third day and now sits at the right hand of God  (3) Paid for our sins, and belief in this is thereby our only access to Heaven  (4) that Christ is God, as part of a triune entity that is only one God.   Thus any differences between Catholics and other Christian denominations, such as Protestants or Baptists are mostly tradition in nature and do not conflict with the bigger picture in the four doctrines presented above.

 

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Silverlining; A Christian Role Playing Game

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imageA game Introduction

by its author Gary Lee Stuber

imageome of the greatest stories of hope and courage, of strength and power, of faith and adversity, lie buried forever; never to be remembered. They lie not in secret chambers of buried civilizations covered in sand and stone and earth, nor in the lost chamber or caverns deep into the sea cliff mountains, but rather they lie quietly mapped and charted, wrapped and sealed, and packed and placed into the dusty alcoves of the impervious library catacombs below Vatican Hill.

These stories, some of them only myth and legend, some the designs of devious and controlling minds, and still others, biographies, written in the blood of those who chronicled their own experiences, lie as if dead, quiet and still. But whether myth, legend, truth or history — none of them residing in these libraries were ever meant to see the light of day, or to be read nor contemplated of men again. The darkness owns them. Why? Because some men, pious men decided a long time ago that they conflicted with the best interests of the church. Because they challenged church dogma, doctrine, tradition or just history as they meant for it to continue. And, because the darkness owned some of them too.

For the history of the church was one of blemishes, bruises and blackeyes. For Rome, was at one time, an enemy of Christ. Then suddenly in 312 A.D. with the almost instantaneous conversion of Emperor Constantine to Christianity the two at enmity were at once thrust together like bride and bridegroom, forming the Holy Roman Church of Jesus Christ, a curious mix of Christianity and the sovereign rule of the Roman Emperor Constantine — as if it were his right to pick and choose the traditions and sanctions of the church, Christian leaders once persecuted and punished for their beliefs were now promoted by the Emperor but at a high price — the Emperor called all the shots.

This new Holy Roman Church declared that it was the ONLY legitimate Christian faith and that anyone outside the sanctions of their own heirarchy were heritics, blasphemers, and driven by demons or by Satan himself, and therefore self-declared enemies of the church. Thus, other Christian sects, even some whose origins went all the way back to the ministry of Jesus Himself or of HIs Apostles were hunted down and forced to accept Rome’s version of doctrine or perish. Many of these “true” Christians, like the Anna-Baptists, the forerunners of the Baptist religion in the world, scattered throughout Europe and Asia, hiding themselves in the mountain ranges. Other sects were not so lucky. They were cut in two by the sword or hung, or burned alive, or tortured to betray others or forced into confessing that they were heretics and the servants of Satan. Their scriptures, some just pieces of scrolls, were confiscated. Their histories and other written records taken and returned to the Vatican or burned upon the bodies of the victims who carried them. This then, was the real definition of the “Dark Ages”as the so-called “Holy Church” became the enemy of Jesus once again trying to burn or kill or crush Christians out of the earth. The Church itself became obese and bloated and power mad and hungry; it was saved a second time by the graciousness of Jesus Christ.

This was accomplished over many centuries through many of its own priests, including and especially the priest Martin Luthor, whose lifetime war within the church finally began the change both within and without the church. As the church split into Protestant factors the number of enemies became so great that the original church could not fight them all. It eventually came to make within the church the same return to practices and doctrine written in Holy scriptures that were established by God before, during, and immediately following the life of Christ that these other Protestant and Baptist factions had been following.The new Holy Roman Church, with the Pope as it’s head, still largely follow this doctrine today.The Pope and other church leaders still sit, some unknowingly, like ignorant guardians, over the secret histories of its former enemies.

For reasons, politic — or – for reasons, other: these documents remain now and forever in darkness. They are kept by the darkness and owned by the darkness. That is, until, some curious one, some powerful one, within the Vatican — out of curiosity or by some other, perhaps divine motivation — finds one and begins to peruse the old languages. And, being moved of the spirit, trying to move the document out of the darkness and into the light meets with adversity. Over the course of fifteen hundred years many a priest have been martyred, murdered within the subterranian walls because they stumbled upon and wanted to free such a story from the darkness.The jealous darkness consumed them. Thus it has been rare when such a story could make it out — and always at such a cost. Even when this happens there is no possible way to verify its authority, whether true or false. Nor whether, even if it were truly from the recesses of the darkness below the Vatican, if it were a true account of the faithful, or merely myth or legend.

Thus it is with such intrepidation that I now offer this account. A story of faith, courage, power, and mystery — a story which reads like myth, but rings true as if history, a story that lifts the heart and soul and yet cannot be verified by any other fact or history or evidence existing. A story told to someone close to the one whose story it tells, who left this record of faith, hope and courage during a time of miracles. The story takes place during the Dark Ages sometime after 900 A.D. when Rome is exercising a stranglehold over the world through its church while battling the new enemy of Islam to it’s east. A time when true Christianity exists side by side with paganism to Rome’s north and west hiding in plain sight, waiting for a true Christian hero to emerge and bring light once more into the darkness of the world.

“And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For everyone that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be manifest, that they are wrought in God.”

The tale begins here.

To the adventurous gamer:

(The preceding was your intro to the setting of the game, it’s parameters, as it were. What follows is a narrative Christian fictional story introducing your character. Let’s call it ‘Chapter One’ of our joint fictional adventure. Because of its length I am posting it in two posts: Chapter One. Part 1 and Chapter One, Part 2. They are all one chapter that for ease of posting has been broken. At the end of chapter one you will have been introduced to your player character, know his skills, and powers and possessions and be thrust into a great hazard that you must resolve with your own imagination, principals backed up by scripture and your own sense of great story telling. There are things that cannot be understood till you read the chapter so a note with more clarity will follow at the end of chapter one.)

To the non-gamer, curious Christian fiction reader:

(Don’t go anywhere. Proceed directly to the next post. You will be thoroughly entertained by the Christian fiction that follows. You will be inspired and maybe challenged and maybe even see a little bit of miraculous magic, if not similar, at least as inspired as that created by C.S.Lewis. You have nothing to lose, and only inspiration to gain.)

This game was referenced in a previous post here at Gary’s Incites,  it was a posting of the original letter that accompanied this introduction and Chapter One that I sent to my son, Christian. You can find it on this site under the Gaming category titled, “The Need for a Good Christian RPG”

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