Young women in excellence ( continued)

Here's my Story-Allison:)

ZARIA’S GIFT

            Zaria reached Mrs. Tilak’s house, her chest heaving from the heavy stich in her side.  She stood upright, breathless from running almost ten streets to get there.  Zaria knocked some of the dirt from her cloths but was not able to disguise the filthy, sooty state of her clothes.  They were here only pair and Zaria could not afford to wash them.  Zaria let out a deep sigh, recognizing defeat and dropped her skirt.  The petite thirteen year-old leaned on her toes and rapped her knuckles twice on the thick iron door.  Zaria took three steps back as the door was answered. 

            “Oh, finally!  I was thinking that you might not show up!”

            The speaker was a tall, stately Indian woman.  Her face was beautiful, with almost a carved quality to it.  The woman’s hair was the color of ebony, and was braided in an exquisite bun that wrapped around her head and gave her the appearance of a woman of high standards, which she was.

            “Well come in!” exclaimed Mrs. Tilak.  “You’ll catch your death in the cold!”

            Mrs. Tilak ushered Zaria into the large entry way of the house and helped Zaria remove her wrap.  “Thank you,” whispered Zaria.  “Thank you, ma’am.”  The twelve year old girl curtsied and kissed the kind Mrs. Tilak on the cheek.

            Mrs. Tilak kissed Zaria on the forehead and hugged her tightly.  Sweet, sweet  Zaria.  She was so young but she worked so hard.  Mrs. Tilak held her tighter and ignored the soot and dirt that was beginning to wipe onto her hands and dress.  Mrs. Tilak pulled away and grimaced at the long black streaks on her hands.

            “Zaria!”

            Mrs. Tilak grinned and laughed.  She took the petite girl’s hand and said, “That will be the cook.  She is at her stretching point.  Christus Jubilante is tomorrow and she has almost all of the pies done.

            Zaria felt a lump rise in her throat and tears swelled in her eyes.  Christ’s Jubilee!  She had nothing to give.   No, she thought, I have my heart to offer.  But that is not enough for the priests.

            Zaria hadn’t realized that Mrs. Tilak had put her hand on Zaria’s shoulder.  “Are you alright?”  Mrs. Tilak asked gently.

            “Fine.  Mrs. Tilak, can I …”

            “Zaria, I know what you’re worried about and of course you’re invited to our house for Christ’s Jubilee.”  Mrs. Tilak smiled with a kind endearing smile.  “It will be okay, I will persuade Mr. Tilak.”

            Zaria was overjoyed, but she still felt a cold anxiety in the pit of her stomach.   Mr. Tilak was a chief priest, and though Zaria didn’t really know him, seemed cold and cruel.  Mrs. Tilak had told Zaria countless times she wanted to adopt Zaria, but Mr. Tilak wouldn’t let her.  “That dirty thing is only here for work!” Mr. Tilak had said.

            Zaria twisted her skirt in her hands and said, “Mrs. Tilak, I have nothing to give.”

            Mrs. Tilak rand a hand through her hair and sighed.  She reached her hand in her pocket and pulled out three shiny coins.  Mrs. Tilak smiled and placed the coins in Zaria’s palm.  “Now go and buy yourself a gift.”

            Mrs. Tilak laughed as Zaria hurried out the door.  The girl was so willing. So hardworking and Mrs. Tilak really hoped she would come to be part of the Tilak family one day.

            Zaria raced down the streets of town weaving in and out of people as she dashed to an old, abandoned house on the edge of town.  Zaria opened the door and let herself in. 

            The inside was just a small, cramped room with a small cot and there was a single lamp shining in the corner.  Zaria raced to the bed and slumped down onto the thin material.  With fumbling fingers, Zaria pulled out a small parcel wrapped in brown paper from inside her coat.  She hastened to unwrap it and pulled out a long piece of beautiful, silvery cloth.   She felt it in between her fingers, and was careful not to smudge it with her dirty hands.  Zaria was going to make her gift from this cloth--the gift to her master, the Christ.

            Zaria knew that she could have probably spent the money on food or a bath.  Zaria’s stomach rumbled and she pulled her coat closer to her as she shivered.  Suddenly, an idea struck her.  She would sew a robe for her master.  Zaria would make it a robe fit for a king, the king of all kings.  Jesus Christ.  But she would have to hurry if she wanted it to be ready for tomorrow.  Everyone would shame her if she had no gift. 

            Zaria pulled out a basked full of colorful thread, scissors, and sewing needles from under her cot, and she began to sew.  Rows upon rows of neat, beautiful stitches appeared as Zaria sewed through the night.  Though she grew weary, and her eyes grew heavy she kept on piecing together her Master’s gift.  Zaria lovingly cut and stitched every last bit of the cloth together.  It was almost time for the sun to rise by the time Zaria finally finished and fell to sleep.

            The next morning Zaria found herself at the alter in the cathedral of Christ, and in just moments, she would offer her gift to her Savior. 

            Zaria looked up as a priest’s shadow fell across the alter.  It was the High Priest, Sir Caldwin.  His piercing blue eyes looked at her small, dingy figure disapprovingly   “What have you to bring, Orphan?”  Sir Caldwin eyes lit up when Zaria pulled from beneath her coat the magnificent silk robe.  He greedily grabbed it from her, and ran his hands over the gleaming material.

            “So beautiful! Exquisite!” Murmured Sir Caldwin, his hands and eyes feeling and examining every inch of the robe.  “And for someone so young…incredible.”

            Sir Caldwin face turned into a mass of red anger.  He suddenly threw the robe back on Zaria and raised his hands as though to slap her.  Zaria shrunk and cringed, hands over her face, waiting for the blow.  It never came.  Zaria slowly moved her hands down from her face and heard a familiar voice ask, “Sir Caldwin, what is the meaning of this?”

            It was Mr. Tilak!  Sir Caldwin spoke slowly, with a determined air.  “Sir, this girl’s gift is unacceptable.  It is not good enough.  And she is too small and dirty.”

            Mr. Tilak’s next workds surprised Zaria.  “This?”  Mr. Tilak leaned down and picked up the robe and shook the dust off it.  “Tis a masterpiece?” 

            Mr. Tilak beckoned to Zaria, and  the startled Zaria stood up.  She followed Mr. Tilak as he walked across the room.

            “Come with me, Child.”

            Zaria found herself in a small room with several closets and a large bathing font.  She watched as Mr. Tilak rummaged through the closets for an object of some sort.  He’s looking for a whip, Zaria thought glumly.  He’s going to beat me.

            But again Mr. Tilak surprised her.  He handed her a beautiful dress.  The type rich girls in the streets wore, with bows and lace.  Zaria spoke tentatively.  “Mr. Tilak, what is this for?  I am not a rich girl.”

            Mr. Tilak looked surprised “For you my girl, of course!  Bathe and dress.  I will turn my back.” He said.

            Zaria had never felt anything like it.  The water felt warm and heavenly. The cloth of the dress was satin, and felt soft and warm against her skin. Zaria felt like she had died and gone to heaven.  When she had finished dressing she tapped Mr. Tilak on the back and he turned to face her.

            “Ah,” Mr. Tilak gripped Zaria hard on the shoulders. “I thought so.  You look beautiful, Zaria.”

            Zaria was a little shocked by the reaction of a man she thought so cruel, but she let him take her hand and lead her back to the font.

            Zaria caught a glimpse of a beautiful, stately young woman, and looked around the room for the young, wispy beauty.  Mr. Tilak turned her to face the water again.  “It is you.” Mr. Tilak whispered.  “That is you, Zaria, my child.”

            Zaria was beautiful.  Suddenly she caught the wide smile on Mr. Tilak’s face.  He was beaming brightly, but his eyes betrayed a hint of sadness.  “What is wrong, Mr. Tilak?”

            “Oh, Zaria,” Mr. Tilak’s eyes were wet.  “I owe you an apology.  I’ve really loved you forever.  I’m sorry we just didn’t adopt you.  I had to test you.  It thought I had to make sure you could be a Tilak.  I’m sorry.  So, so, so, sorry, Zaria.”

            Mr. Tilak handed Zaria the silk robe and hugged her tightly and whispered.  “You and your faith are the greatest gift of all.  Welcome to the Tilak family.”  Mr. Tilak murmured, “I love you Zaria.”

            Zaria hugged her father back and let all her pain of the years go.  She hugged the Savior’s robe to her chest and began to cry.  ZariaTilak said a silent prayer of thanks for her faith, hope and new family, and her Savior.

         

Beautiful

The day

The night

The moon

Beautiful

Midnight

Twilight

The Stars

Beautiful

The Sky

The Milky Way

The Fireplace

Beautiful

The Three Day Wait

The Resurrection

The Atonement

Not Just Beautiful

Sacred

                                    Here is my poem!!!!:)