September 269 AD
Every night, outside my prison door…
there is a short whispered conversation…
the rattle of swords…the scuffle of boots…
then the hasty exit of the guards and their torches.
After that, in the absence of light, comes my visitor.
She brings me food, and wine, and welcome conversation.
The story of Saint Valentine, which began here, continues.
She talks of faith.
“I believe there is a Great Good.
It is the best possible thing of all things…
and is that which has no beginning or end.
This I believe to be God.
There can be only one who is such…
and thus, there can only be one God.
I know this by reason, by logic.
But I do not share your faith Valentine.”
She is not far from the Kingdom of God.
Tonight, as I eat, she asks if she may touch my face. I seems a strange request. Her fingertips run softly over every detail, every line, every curve…as if searching.
She says, “I see.”
And then she is off like the wind following a spring shower.
October 269 A.D.
It rains interminably now and the water floods the cell. The space between the bars, which was my only source of light, has now been shut by bricks. I have not seen sunlight for a month.
There is no longer debate with the advisors of the Emperor.
Discourse is now torture.
A broken finger…
a hobbled knee…
is a small price to pay…
for love…and for God.
Months ago the answer “I believe in the One True God” was met with argument. But now it is met by the club or the hammer. Once, there was the cause of love itself to give me strength. But now, I have no way of knowing how many of the marriages I performed still remain.
I am told by the guards…
that all whom I have married have been slaughtered.
Have I become a harbinger of suffering throughout the Empire?
I know my God saves my tears.
He is present and understands my sorrow.
Without him there would be no reason to go on.
And there is my daily visitor.
I know she comes once a day…
for the shifts of the guards mark the time.
Rome is very punctual in the rotation of the watch.
Each day guards leave…
the torchlight disappears…
and then the woman returns.
She brings balm for my wounds…
also some bread, but only some…
for now, I am no longer served food.
Her name…
is…
Asteria.
♥✞ღ
I wanted to finish this series by Valentine’s Day…
But things as they are, I just can’t get all the way back on track.
Sorry.
There is more…
to the story of Saint Valentine.
Please come back.
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
Thank you for continuing this story, Craig, even if it goes past Valentine’s Day!
Craig, missing you! waiting, wanting, to hear more, praying, thanking God for your healing. may He bless you today.
I agree, Nancy! More prayers for you, Craig!
Me too! I am praying most earnestly for you, Craig. Please . . . even if it’s just a couple of words. We care!
Missing you, friend.
Dear Craig, I’ve been so out of touch for so long and finally realized how long since I stopped in. Goodness, dear friend, you’ll go to the top of my prayers. So many of us care so deeply about you, even if I’ve been too overwhelmed with my own health to stay in touch. Let us know how you are. Prayerfully, Liz