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TITLE: The Cloke 7/25/2024 By Lynae Fisher 07/25/24 |
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The two traveled down the dusty road together. One, a young lad, was garbed in tattered clothes carrying on his side the pouch containing his few belongings. The other wore simple, yet neat apparel. As they walked together through the dry, rocky terrain on the crooked path, they talked.
“So you want to wear the finest garment ever made?” asked the older man who was a bit taller than the lad.
“Yes sir, but how could I ever wear fine clothes, being so poor. And the taxes now days are outrageous! They’ll tax the lining out of a man’s pocket!” bemoaned the lad.
“But what if I told you the finest garment could not be bought with mere money? And furthermore, that it could not be taxed away?” asked the elder.
“Why, sir, do not all things cost money?” inquired the bewildered lad.
“All the things of this world do, but things that are not of this world have no respect for money. Kindness, love, and all the good things beyond this world cannot be bought or sold with gold and silver, mere material monies of this world,” replied the elder.
“What is this garment of which you speak? Tell me more of this great thing which money cannot buy,” urged the lad.
“There are many robes that men wear. Some are dirty, musty, and filthy, while others are beautiful and pure. Yet this garment of which I tell you is the most magnificent of all. Even the kings of the earth desire it, but not all can claim it. Indeed, some of the poorest of the earth wear it before the richest kings. It is a simple, quiet cloke, but it does not hide in adversity either. It stands firm when it is needed, yet steps back in humility at the right time. It is active-wear; always ready to act to do good and to refrain from evil,” the elder explained.
“What do those who behold it think of it?” asked the lad looking at his dusty sandals in deep thought.
“Many hold it in high esteem. A few, out of their jealously, hate it, because its majesty condemns their wicked ways,” the elder answered.
The lad reached for his flask and took a small drink. The water supply was nearly spent. Returning the flask to its place, he wiped his brow. It was a hot day in the desert. While the lad contemplated the saying, his thoughts were suddenly disturbed by the croaking of a frog.
“What! A frog! What is a frog doing out here in this hot, dry wilderness?” exclaimed the lad.
“Let us follow its voice,” suggested the elder.
They turned off of the road and scrambled up the rocky bank beside the road. They wove their way through the boulders, stopping now and then to listen for the frog. At last, they reached the place from which the sound came. There, they saw it. A small stream in the desert, on the banks of the pool fed by the stream sat the frog. Green grass grew around the banks of it and flowers bloomed there. The two travelers stopped to fill their flasks with the good, sweet water of the stream and sat down in the shadow of a bush to rest.
“Wow! Who would have thought such a place could exist out here?” exclaimed the lad as he laid down in the cool grass.
The little frog paused its song for a moment to look at the two visitors with its large eyes. The slimy-skinned green frog was not used to seeing such large visitors at the stream. It scrunched down fat for a moment, then it stood up taller, looked back and forth between the two of them and finally leapt into the pool with a splash. The two travelers watched as the ripples ran across the pool.
“What a lovely oasis! It doesn’t seem to belong out here, but it is sure nice,” commented the lad.
“Indeed. This oasis in the desert is like honor in a vain and vile world. A man clothed in honor is like stream in the desert. It is out of place, but it can rescue a desperate soul.”
(fiction)
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