Short Dramas and Plays
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Monologue for the Woman at the Well
I used to hate my life, ya know what I mean? All my husbands had used me and abandoned me. You’d think other women would sympathize, ya know? But no—they were worse than the men! They’d ignore me, call me rotten names or talk to each other about me like I wasn’t there. I really hated that, ya know!
My life wasn’t worth a tinker’s . . . toy. Men treated me like dirt and the other women kept me at arm’s length. So, I looked for ways to be invisible. One way was to go get water at noon. No one in her right mind carried water in the hottest part of the day. That’s why I was at the well at high noon (sounds like a movie doesn’t it?) And that’s why you could have knocked me over with a feather when this hoity-toity Jewish man asked me for a drink of water, ya know?
First, no one ever asked me for anything.
Second, he was a Jew—ya known—the highbrows who thought they had a corner on religion.
Well, I wasn’t all that nice at first. I thought there was some trick—like when I bent over to draw water he’d push me in the well.
But, no, he said he’d give me water—water so I’d never be thirsty again. Well, I could go for that! No more trips at high noon to the well. . .but. . .yeah, yeah. . .I fell for it. I asked for the water he had.
Sure enough it was a trick—he told me to go and get my husband. I should have known. He was going to make up stuff about me. So I told him I didn’t have one.
He said I was right about that—I’d had five of ‘em and the man I was with now wasn’t even my husband. How’d He know that? I didn’t like this personal stuff so I tried to get a religious argument going. That was better than this personal stuff, ya know? But this Jewish man was not like anyone else. He couldn’t talk religion without making it personal. He said, “What you’re called will not matter. . .” Whoa! I’d been called a lot of things . . . but then He said, “It’s who you are and the way you live that counts.” Ouch! So, stubbornly, I tried to get back to religion. I said that I knew the Messiah was coming. Ya know what he said? He said, “You don’t have to wait any longer. I am He.”
Get that feather out and knock me over again!
I ran into town and forgot about being invisible. I called out to the other women, “Come and see a man who knew all about the things I did, who knows me inside and out.”
The whole town went out to the well. And after a few days, Jesus had gotten personal with all of them, too. They knew he was the One we’d been waiting for.
He knew me inside and out but He still welcomed me into a friendship with Him. Finally! Someone who love me as I was but loved me too much to leave me there! Ya know what I mean? I hope you do!
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Georgann, I really liked this. I could sort of imagine the woman by the way she was talking. Even though the story is familiar, it was brought to life through her eyes, and with a dash of humor. Really enjoyable, and I loved the way you finished it: "Finally! Someone who love me as I was but loved me too much to leave me there! Ya know what I mean? I hope you do!"
With love, Deb (FaithWriters.com)