My Version of That Story

My daughter, Flower of the Family, posted a story she wrote. Since I wrote one from the same prompt, I decided to post mine, also.

I slowly opened my eyes. The room seemed to be spinning and the light hurt my eyes. I closed them again, covering them with my hands. I slowly opened my eyes again, squinting, and slowing moving my hands from my face. There was blood on my left hand. I felt around and determined that the area of my left eye had an injury. There was some light coming in a small window up high on the wall. I sat up, looking around carefully. I was so confused to find myself in this strange room. How did I get here? As I sat up, I noticed that my feet were tender. What had become of my sandals? My bare feet burned as I walked across the rough surface of the floor to look at the window. It was only about 8 inches in height and about 2 feet across. No way a body could climb through that window, even if one could reach it. There was nothing in this little room, except a container of murky looking water and a chamber pot. The door was made out of very heavy timbers with some type iron reinforcement. There was no way out of here unless someone unlocked the door from outside.

I called out to see if anyone would hear me and come to the room. That was soon seen to be a fruitless maneuver. I started pacing around the small room. I was famished for water, so I reluctantly drank most of the dirty looking water in the pot. That seemed to make me feel better and I was hopeful that it would help me to focus on my circumstances better. I stuck my hands in my pockets and was startled to find something inside the hidden pocket in my garment. I pulled out five stones. Five little dissimilar stones; three of which were beautiful shiny stones, one odd-shaped one, and one very rough and dirty on one side, and smooth and beautiful on the other. I sat down on the floor and lay the stones out in front of me. I simply could not figure out what they meant or where they came from.

As I handled the stones, I realized that, if properly placed, the three beautiful shiny ones would fit together and form one uniform shape, a perfect circle. I thought to myself, "Hum! Three of the same put together make one." Why did that seem so familiar to me? The odd-shaped stone was shaped somewhat like the letter T; perhaps more like a plus sign. The other one was a common stone, except for being rough, unpolished and dirty on one side only. As I stared at these stones, some memories began forming in my mind. Yes! I knew what these stones were for. Yes, they were mine.

I jumped up at the sudden noise at the door. Someone was coming. I could hear a sliding lock being forced back to free the door. The door opened slowly, making a loud creaking noise. There were two men there, one holding my sandals, and the other holding some papers. I stood there silently, expecting them to declare me guilty of some crime and take me out to be hanged.
The man handed me my sandals and watched me as I placed them on my feet. The other man spoke to me in a very official sounding manner and said, "The charge levied against you was that you were using materials to tell people about this Jesus Christ, however, we have found no such materials on your person, therefore, we are obligated to set you free." I thanked them, and as I was leaving, they told me to not return to this village again, ever.

As I walked down the road, I took the rocks out of my pocket. I fitted the three together; the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, into One. I held up the dirty rough stone, laid it on the cross-shaped stone, then turned it over so that the clean smooth side was up. Yes, it’s amazing how one can tell another about Jesus’ cleansing power with a handful of stones.