Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: CAT (11/08/18)
TITLE: My Name Was Black
By Kayla James
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“Don’t you ever come back!” she screeched.
If Black could speak in human, he would say, “Don’t worry. I won’t.”.
The old woman had taken his mother in when she was a stray, and this woman’s home was the only one Black knew. The woman was not kind and often mistreated her cats.
Black had heard the townspeople call her a witch quite a few times. He wasn’t sure what “witch” meant, but knew it wasn’t good.
As he pattered away from the house, grateful of his escape, his stomach growled. He was The old lady had only given him a fish head yesterday morning and he was hungry.
Black arrived at the fishmonger’s stall. He meowed up to the man, who was packing fish into icy barrels.
The old man wiped his hands on his grubby apron.He stared into Black’s sad eyes and stomped his feet.
“No fish for you. Scat! Go on.”
Black retreated to a nearby tree and pondered what to do next.
Just then, an old woman in a silk dress came to the fishmonger. Black saw a pair of Siamese cats peeking from the basket she carried and heard them meow.
The fishmonger smiled and dropped two small fish into the basket for them. Then, he began to take the old woman’s order.
Black was hurt.
Why could they have fish and not him? They didn’t even let the old man pet them as a thank you.
Black went over to the baker.
The baker’s tabby cat lounged on the windowsill outside. Between naps, she drank from a large bowl of creamy milk.
Black made a timid approach.
The bowl was still half full and it looked delicious.
“May I have some?” Black asked.
The tabby sat up and stared at him.
Why not?” she yawned. “Don’t let my master catch you, though. He hates you black cats. Says you bring bad luck.”
Black paused before taking a drink from the bowl.Bad? How could he be bad?
“You’re the cat from old Hetty Brimmer’s place, aren’t you?” the tabby asked while Black drank.
“I was,” Black replied.
The tabby’s claws came out and her ears flicked back. “The calico cat in the bookstore says any cat from there bites. Do you?”
Black had bitten a few alley cats when fighting for food, but he would never bite a town cat.
“What if I have?” he asked.
Tabby reared her head and hissed. Black tensed and jumped from the windowsill just as the tabby pounced.
The milk bowl fell to the ground, breaking into a million pieces..
Tabby chased Black until they came to the lower part of the village where the less well-off people lived.
Tabby refused to go any further and hissed at Black. “Don’t come back until you learn to be civilized.”
Tabby went away and Black felt exhausted. Plus, he was still hungry.
He went to a nearby doorstep and collapsed on it. He lay his head on his paws and sighed. He couldn’t understand what he did wrong.
The door to the house opened softly and a small woman came out. She wore a cotton dress and smelled like the village flower shop. .
“Oh,” the woman said. “How did you get here?”
She bent down and petted Black. He meowed, trying to tell her about his day and the old lady.
The lady cradled him in her plump arms and carried him inside. She lay him down on a soft rug near a tiny fireplace.
It felt very different from the patch of wood floor he had staked out as his own at the Brimmer place.
“I bet you’re starving, poor thing,” the woman said and gave him a bowl of milk.
It was not as big as the baker’s, but it tasted wonderful.
The woman bathed him and brushed his fur until the black coat shone.
“What a beauty you are!” the woman exclaimed. “I think that’s what I’ll call you.”
So Beauty stayed with the old woman and grew to be the most handsome cat in the village.
We, as sinners, are like Black, searching for someone to love us, even though we’re “black” with sin. Jesus, like the old woman, takes us in, cleanses us, and calls us His own.
2 Corinthians 5:17
This story is fiction.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
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