Picture It & Write, Nov. 18/2012

She was a puppet dangling on a string, formed from her own imagination. No guts, no strength to carry out anything in everyday life. If someone asked her opinion, she shrunk back into herself, waiting for her puppet to come to life.

She wanted to be free, but remained glued to the spot she called her soul, never being able to come out and play. People taking advantage of her weakness, passing her around for their own sick enjoyment.

She was the one you could count on to do the dirty work of others. Fear allowed her to go against her upbringing. She had sex with men who taunted her and told her how beautiful she was. She ran with the wrong crowd, because she was an easy insert into their devious lives. She helped to break into a closed business. She helped to pass drugs, she would take the rap for wrong doings that her so-called friends had done.

She let men beat her, forcing her mind to fall prey to their beliefs, letting her think she was worthless. There were very strict rules in her household and her church, and she knew the difference between right and wrong, but she could not escape from herself and her low self-esteem.

Her parents stayed in the background and prayed for her daily, and wept at nights for the loss of their daughter. They knew the only way they could rescue their daughter was from the gods that they worshiped. They would go to the statue and bring gifts to please their God, in hopes that he may rescue their daughter.

They knelt in front of the gods and prayed for cleanliness, to remove the soils that had penetrated her soul. Day after day they returned to the same spot, as their daughter fell more pray to the people around her.

One time as they were praying a stranger approached them and he was in a long white robe, and he carried a staff, and he knelt in front of the mother and dared to ask why she was crying.

The heart-stricken mother poured her heart out to this kind stranger, that took the time to show he cared. After telling her story, the man in white cloth, asked where was this daughter that they loved so much, and the parents cried out to him, saying they knew not where she was. She had disappeared out into the streets earlier today, and so now their prayer was that she would come home.

The stranger rose up and brought the parents to their feet, and commanded them to sit in the pew and wait for his return. Without question, they did as they were told. The stranger in white, turned around and vanished as quickly as he had appeared.

The two sat in the pew and said nothing aloud, each saying their own inner prayers, and within moments, the stranger reappeared and walked towards  the waiting parents and asked them if this was indeed their daughter.

The mother fell to the floor thanking this man for finding their daughter, and taking her own scarf off that was wrapped around her head, she began to say a prayer to him, kissing his feet and wiping them afterwards with her scarf.

The stranger said to them, rise and walk over to the altar with me. He took the girl by the hand, and the parents followed, and they were amazed at how easily the daughter obeyed a complete stranger. He picked her up and laid her on the altar, and he prayed  the puppet out,from within her that was binding her soul.

The flickering candles that were burning in the background fluttered and dimmed, went out and then came back to life again, and it was then, that he told the girl to rise from the altar, and stand and go to these loving parents.

The girl rose and looking in the direction of the two adults, walked towards them, and buried her head in their arms, and their arms went around her and they hugged her, saying my daughter, my daughter, you know us, you have come back to us. The mother turned around to tell the stranger in white how thankful she was, but turning completely around, the stranger was gone. The parents fell to their knees, praising God for a miracle, their daughter had been returned safe and unharmed.

31 thoughts on “Picture It & Write, Nov. 18/2012

  1. I’m not sure how to react to this. I felt very strongly that when the girl rose in the end that she was lifted by the puppet strings in the picture, so I just wasn’t sure about that and so let’s just say I liked the story and it was uplifting! 🙂


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