A fantasy story. One written with the intentions of sharing, wonder magic, lore and an ending that brings us to the reality that God is in control. Life is a journey and different for each person.
"The tea is lovely, Dear. Is it made from the pouch of herbs the man gave?"
"No...no, it's plain old Dubois favorite family tea. Nothing special or unusual about the tea." Elizabeth Catherine sipped from her cup, watching, observing the English woman who sat on her antique couch in front of her fire on a freezing cold bizarrely night. She was always defensive when asked about "teas, rubs, herbs" or items associated with witches.
Thinking to herself, "who the hell is this woman?" And, to add, "the large tote bag she's digging through, where did it come from? She didn't have it on her when she came through the door. So, where did she get it?" Elisabeth Catherine's mind threw a whirlwind of questions and ruminating thoughts.
Overnight Company or visitors were uncommon at the Dubois home. Elizabeth thinking to herself, "furthermore, why would she let this stranger enter her home? I don't even know her name! Well, clearly, there was no choice. The women was injured with an obvious bump on her head. Also, she couldn't leave her outside in the freezing blizzard."
Even though, Elizabeth Catherine's reputation of being unfriendly to the community that lived in the valley below was somewhat true, it was partially true the community of "Christians" who lived in the valley forced and pushed her into a reputation of mean "witchery, toad boiling, Newt eyed eating delicacies lover, etc etc etc." Elizabeth Catherine Dubois chose the better part of living, to forgive with a snubbed nose, and to stay far away from the snakes that lived in the valley below her home on the hillside.
Her motto for life, number two? To know and understand all there is to know. This was pure magic, Elizabeth Catherine style.
To Elizabeth Catherine, the understanding of God or the lack of, the valley folks had of Him, was clearly evident. She of course, more knowledgeable about the secrets of God, in an amazing way, simply, knew first hand His secrets, His plans, His dislikes, and the things that made Him laugh.
And, those people, in the valley were simply ignorant, but shouldn't be blamed for their poor insight regarding the understandings and deep personal encounters she had with God. After all, she knew, they were unprepared for the journey He sends so few on, and Elizabeth was one of the chosen few.
For loneliness and isolation were her close companions. And, a life time of their constant presence imprisoned her. Elizabeth knew most people could not stand the cell of quiet silence she "must" endure perhaps a lifetime.
So, despite being labelled anything but an altruistic humanitarian, Elizabeth Catherine Dubois lived by her gut instinct. God's message was dropped in her belly, known in her heart, rationalized in her mind, and lived by her. A unique calling.
Concerning Eleanor, Beth's gut said, "The interruption of your dreary mundane plans? A blessing. You'll see. A golden nugget of enlightenment boxed in a gift with a green velvet wrapping paper and a ribbon of herbs hanging to the side created just for you! And the tote bag? A mystery! Now, just pull the ribbon and let your adventure unfold."
Elizabeth heard this loud and clear but with reserve and hesitancy listened to the voice of enchantment and trust, but then she would listen and follow the advice of caution, "you've been hurt before. Move slowly. She's weird. So, watch and see."
Eleanor was quietly allowing Elizabeth Catherine the long needed opportunity to scope her out. But she wore a gentle smile.
A smile that said, "it's all OK, you'll see."
Softly, she spoke, "The man did say to give you the burlap bag with something in it, did you get it?"
Sharply Beth replied, "Yes...I have it.."
"He said, you would know what to do with the herbs."
"Yes...you gave me the pouch. It contains Lavender, Myrrh, and the third one, I don't recognize." Elizabeth's voice tone was deep and matter of fact.
"He said you would know..." Eleanor trying to re-explain.
"Yes!" Elizabeth interrupted like a gruff mother.
"Yes, I know what to do." And then, her eyes apologized.
The embers popped from the fire. In quietness the fire's danced. The room warm and cozy.
Elizabeth Catherine spoke after she sipped.
"There wasn't a man at the door."
Silence for a moment.
Elizabeth's mind went round and round thinking, "conjured imaginations coming from this older women who stood at her front door on a cold cold winters night, which stood on the side of a hill in NOWHERE, USA was unreal. Surrealistic. Crazy! What was the likely hood of such an event? What is the alterable motives? What is going on?"
After all, no one allowed Elizabeth the opportunity to conjure, manifest or speak delusions of heightened imaginations that held no truth. Elizabeth stopped this woman from any further talk that once contributed to the despicable label of witchcraft and sorcery given by the valley regarding Elizabeth Catherine Dubois, so this little woman can, just forget it. I won't have it either.. If I can't do it, then she won't either!
As if Eleanor heard her thoughts piped in, "there most certainly was a man! He gave me the pouch, he lifted me out of the jeep before it went over the side of the cleft! He was a very nice man and he knew you and wasn't afraid of YOU, my dear! So, you do have a friend here in this town of unforgivables!"
"Mrs....? There was NO man! There was NO snow plow, There are NO snow plow tracks...! And, by the way, what is your name?"
"Eleanor, dear. Eleanor Harding."
Eleanor, you have a lovely bruise on the front of your head. How are you feeling? I must call emergency 911 for help. You are not doing well."
"NO! I do NOT need emergency help! I'm just tired right now. You make the tea and poultice. Then, I will be fine. Just as he said." "There was a man. He lifted me from the jeep 3 or 4 miles down the road. I could not have walked here that far in this weather. I didn't know where you lived, but he did. He gave me the sack of herbs. He knows you well. ...
Oh, it's not important now. What is important is where my room is...I'm tired my Dear."
"Alright. First let me layer the poultice suave on your forehead."
"The herb aroma is lovely. Yes, do put the suave on for me dear. Then, I shall go to bed if you'll lead the way?"
"Yes, of course Eleanor. Follow me. I made the bed with fresh sheets in the Lavender room today. That's strange. Why would I clean the room and put sheets on the bed? I haven't had company in years?" Hmm.. . That's odd... Elizabeth Catherine Dubois mutters under her breath as she escorts Mrs. Harding to the lavender bedroom.
Eleanor tidied herself for bed and fell soundly sleeping.
Elizabeth sat in the living room being suspicious of the whole situation. Asking herself, "who is this English woman who wears an outdated green velvet suit, who shows up on my door step during a blizzard, who looks like she stepped out of Grimm's Fairy Tales? Oh, enough is enough! Who the hell is she? What is she doing here! And God forbid, what if she dies tonight with complications from a head injury! Then what? Maybe I should call the police?
Elizabeth Catherine Dubois did not phone the police. The phone was dead.
So, she fell asleep on the floor covered with a heavy down cover lying on an old tapestry rug in the living room next to the fire once holding a Brandi snifter which fell on the floor leaking it's brew into the wooden floors.
And, after worrying all night about "should have, could have and didn't do...," Elizabeth Catherine Dubois fell into a deep deep sleep~on the floor of the warm cottage ~ that sat on a hill above the valley ~ on a cold winters night with a Mrs.Eleanor Harding. Who now sleeps in a room she never used, but oddly made the room presentable that day for a reason she could not explain; Elizabeth dreamed. The third herb ... laid under her head. In a whisper delivered in deep sleep, she heard: "Mugwort; Mugwort...The name is Mugwort. Now dream..."
Note: *Mugwort is an herb that when placed under a pillow will cause dreams to occur.
The book continues with Good Morning! Smell The Coffee . We will provide a link to it when you review this below.
Read more articles by bonnie Jennings or search for articles on the same topic or others.