Short Stories

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Then Pilate
took Jesus
and scourged Him.
And
the soldiers plaited
a crown
of thorns,
and put it
on his head,
and arrayed
Him
in a
purple
robe.
[John 19:1-2]
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The two melting candles
flickered in the dim light
of the cluttered, dusty shop.
Lena gently spread the
heavy material across her
lap. In the soft morning
sunlight, coming through
the crack of the old stone doorway,
the deep purple, silky
threads of the unfinished robe
almost shimmered. Lena
began to sew a tiny edge
of almost invisible loops
at the bottom of the
cloak. She spoke without
looking up.
"Who is this FOR,
Nathan?"

"I'm not SURE."
(Nathan glanced up at
his wife. He shrugged,
and continued sewing the
hem of the left sleeve;
his deft tailor's fingers
moved swiftly over the
fine, thick material.)
"One of those Roman
SERVANTS....brought this
bolt to me.......
.....last WEEK."
(Nathan sighed,
and shrugged, again.)
"Who KNOWS?"

"I don't like WORKING
for them, NATHAN."
(Lena stopped sewing,
for a moment. She frowned:
shaking her head.)
"It is WRONG....we
shouldn't be MAKING
this.....it is PROBABLY
for one of their Roman
PARTIES!"

"HUSH, LENA!
HUSH!"
(Nathan turned his
head for a moment, to
look back at the open
doorway of their tiny
shop; gratefully it
was still early in the
morning, and few people
were on the street, yet.)
"We need the MONEY!
You KNOW that! Now,
HUSH!"

(Lena went back to her
sewing, but she whispered
fiercely.)
"But, what are we to
BECOME: serving the
ROMANS?"

(Nathan leaned toward
his wife, the sewing needle
poised in his leathery hand.
The smell of the new fine linen,
so tightly woven and
beautifully dyed, filled the
musty air of the old, tiny shop;
the heady scent of the exquisite material,
combined with the rich scent
of the two flickering candles
beside the sewing table,
seemed to transform the plain
little dwelling into a place of
beauty, and importance.)
"We already are,
my Lena!
We already ARE!
What of these
TAXES? If doing
work for the Romans
HELP.....what HARM
is THERE?"

"Well......we must not
let anyone KNOW.....
especially the ELDERS."

"It is NONE of their
BUSINESS!"
(Nathan whispered back.
He shook his head;
deftly cutting off a tiny
piece of purple thread with
his ancient, well-sharpened
sewing knife.)
"You know how many of
those garments I have
made for the PHARISEES...and,
they ALWAYS cut my pay SHORT!
You KNOW that! They are like
THIEVES: no different
than the Roman TAX
COLLECTORS!"
(Nathan murmured,
as if to himself.)
"One DAY, our MESSIAH....will COME!"

(Lena put down her sewing;
she picked up a cup of
water, and took a sip.
Then she picked up her
needle, again. She sighed.)
"Well.........I'll be glad when
we are FINISHED with
this......there is the
preparation for the
PASSOVER to do, yet."

(Nathan gave a short,
impatient nod. He had
very little interest for
anything, besides his
tailor work. If it weren't
for the Shabbot and
the Festivals......he would
be working contentedly
in his old, dusty shop,
every moment of the day.)
"We have four grown
DAUGHTERS, Lena!
Let THEM PREPARE,
this YEAR!"

(Lena chuckled;
she glanced up at her ornery
husband; in thirty years,
Nathan hadn't changed.
The only thing on his mind
was the cutting, and weaving..
of bolts of cloth, and measuring them
for the sewing table.)
"Do you KNOW when
the Passover IS....this
YEAR?"

"Sometime........next
WEEK?"
(Nathan shrugged. As
usual, he was wearing his
long, worn-out length of
leather measuring-string
about his neck. He also
wore a long, old leather
apron that had several
deep pockets: all were
filled with bits of material,
different colors of thread,
small cutting knives, and
other odd assortment of
sewing tools: most of
which had been passed
down from his father,
and grandfather.)
"No time to THINK about
planning SUPPERS....
now, Lena! We must get this FINISHED,
by mid-WEEK! The Roman SERVANT
will be coming to pick it up,
before the next SHABBAS.......!"

(Lena knotted off the
purple thread in her
graceful fingers. For a
moment, she gazed
wonderingly at the beautiful cloak;
it was quite different from any
her husband had ever
tailored: instead of
the usual seam down the
front and sides of the tunic,
it was all one artfully
crafted piece. No servant
of the Roman Guard was
going to be wearing this;
it must have been ordered
for a party or a special
occasion for the Roman
Governor.....or....perhaps,
one of the high-ranking militia-men.)
"I wonder who is going
to be wearing such a fine GARMENT?"
(Lena gently fingered the soft,
heavy purple material; again,
in the penetrating rays of
the strengthening sunlight,
the exquisitely dyed purple
threads seemed to shimmer
and sparkle.)
"Surely.....it is fit... for
a KING."
********************
When the soldiers
had crucified Jesus
they took his garments
and made four parts,
one for each soldier;
also his tunic.
But, the tunic
was without seam,
woven from top to
bottom.
[John 19:23]


Copyright 2011.

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