The Most Sacred Thing -- a short story
[thoughts from a ~ burning woman~]
The people had gathered by the thousands to hear the message broadcast in the great square. It said,
"It is my sad duty to announce that our sworn enemy has decided to invade our nation. All negotiations have failed and the country now stands helpless. For we have nothing to send against him, nothing to stop his hundreds of thousands of ground troops supported by tanks and APC's. He will be sending his thousands of jets to bomb and strafe from his mighty carriers now cruising near our shores. His mighty guns are soon to open up to devastate our towns and villages, destroying all resistance to their marching advance. All this despite our most earnest entreaties that we have no weapons to mount any kind of defense or counter-offensive. There is nothing I or the government can do now. We must leave post-haste and hope for a day when we may return to you. This message was pre-recorded. You may return to your homes or try to flee. The choice is yours."
Stunned, the people turned away, bowing their heads in silence as they walked back to their homes and loved ones. What could they do? What should they do? Wait for death to rain from the skies, or come tearing through the flimsy houses seeking whom it may devour? The situation indeed seemed utterly hopeless.
The enemy was within sight of the capital city, the first city it was going to penetrate and subdue when a panicked message came to the Commander in Chief of the invading army.
"Cannot proceed further. Have encountered the enemy and all our forces have ground to a halt. We must turn back immediately or surrender. Please advise."
The Chief asked for a video hook up to his front lines. "I want to see this enemy for myself!" he thundered. What secret weapon of mass destruction do these effeminate people hold to threaten our might? Show me!"
The cameras panned across the wide black front of the invading army. All was at a standstill. Panning ahead the Chief was struck dumb. For there, walking towards his mighty army was a young woman, bareheaded and barefoot, carrying a child she held carefully wrapped in a shawl.
"Damn those bastards," he yelled. "Why was I not informed they possessed MST's? How did they get that one?"
"Damn them all to hell to have the gall to send against us the One Thing we cannot defeat. The Most Sacred Thing. How close will she come to us? How much courage can one girl posses? If only she would turn and run away now we could proceed with impunity."
And there, in the open pass between the sea and the city, the mighty army confronted its nemesis: the Most Sacred Thing: a mother and her child. It could not proceed further, for despite the willingness to fight wars and to conquer lands for resources that were not theirs to have, the invaders were nonetheless a civilized people. To proceed they would have to kill this mother and her child in cold blood, there, in front of the cameras and not only the entire army, but the whole nation, would be witness to this ritual killing. Then it would no longer be a civilized nation but an outcast from the family of humanity.
"Open fire all around her, but don't hit her!" commanded the Chief. The guns opened up and the girl, using her shawl and raising her arms to protect her baby, stood while death flew within inches of her. Soon she was covered in dirt and sand. Her arms were covered in blood from ricochets grazing her skin. She stood still in the midst of the inferno.
"Cease fire!" The guns fell silent but were trained on the woman.
How many guns were pointed at her and her child? The girl didn't know, but she knew there were enough that if they fired directly at her, she and her child would, in an instant, be scattered in small bloody pieces all over this soil, the soil of her land; the soil that had nourished her people for millennia. And she knew also that had she not come here to die, her life and that of her child as slaves to this mighty conqueror would not have been worth living.
She did not turn. She did not run away. For she had come of her own free will and choice. No one had sent her. She knew her course of action. She had always known. She came forth to confront the invader because such was her purpose.
Shaking the dirt from her shawl, she folded it upon the sand and sat on it lotus fashion. Opening her blouse, now covered in dirt and blood she suckled the screaming infant, calming it down until it settled peacefully to the breast.
The planes were recalled; the great guns turned down and locked. Tanks and APC's turned towards the shore and the foot soldiers prepared to walk back to their landing transports.
But not before, as one, they cheered the woman on the sand as loudly as they were able. Such a cheer as had never been heard on the planet. A cheer of victory.
Sheila
As many others have already said, this is a powerful story. Simple and yet commanding.
Thank you,
Terry
Terrified for the mother and child
wow and what sacred blessing!!
Truly a very interesting story
What a fantastic mother!!
Peace Love and hugssss....Morning Star
this is wonderful writing Regis...
John
--RaeLynn
Georg
Love,
annie
The Most Sacred Thing indeed...
Take Care, Pierre
Micke
Peace,
Dan
Love TinkaSweets
Cryssa