right trying to create a blog as a place to post a few poems and shortish stories.
the first one I am attempting to post is a story called 'Fit for a King'
hope this works...here goes
Fit for a King
I stood at my gate looking up the hill towards the Big House. Workmen were just dismantling the scaffolding, which had been erected for the massive clean up that had been in progress for the last couple of weeks. The house belonged to the mayor of our district and the clean-up was in honour of the up-coming visit of the King. In fact tomorrow was to be the big day,
When it had first been announced the king would be passing through our village the whole place was immediately electrified by the news. No one seemed to be able to speak of anything else. Great plans had been discussed and argued over for weeks. So you can imagine the excitement when we received word that the King also wished to spend the night here, and he wanted to stay in someone’s home.
Of course any one of us would have been thrilled if our home had been the one selected for the honour. There had been a definite flurry of spring-cleaning and beautifying going on, especially in the more affluent homes in the area. I am not sure how the decision was finally made but the honour for the visit went to the Mayor. I suppose it was only natural, after all he did have the biggest and grandest house in the district.
Nevertheless, I have to admit I caught the spring-cleaning fever too. I daydreamed about the possibility of the king staying in my humble little run-down cottage. The piles of boxes and bags of rubbish littering my small home now bore witness to my futile attempts of tackling the years of junk which had accumulated in the spare room. Also faced with the daunting task of cleaning corners and places long left untouched, I conceded defeat, and had resigned myself to just hopefully catching a glimpse of our illustrious monarch as he passed by on his way to the Mayor’s mansion.
I was thinking about all this as I gazed up the hill. That is when I saw a decrepit old van pull up at the grand gates of the Big House. A man got out and spoke to the gatekeeper, but obviously he was given the word, in no uncertain terms, to move on. He climbed back in his van and chugged on down the hill towards my cottage. The van stopped at my gate and a scruffily dressed man climbed out. By the look of him he was obviously one of the itinerate workers who often passed through the village looking for seasonal work.
“Morning” he greeted me with a friendly smile.
He seemed vaguely familiar; no doubt he had worked in the district before.
“Good morning” I replied, “What can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if you could spare me a glass of water?” He asked, “ I got sent packing with a flea in my ear from that place up the road.”
“That’s because of the King’s visit tomorrow” I explained. “He’s apparently going to stay the night up there in the mayor’s mansion, they’ve been busy getting it ready for ages now. You are welcome to come in here anyway, but I must apologise for the state of the place” I added.
The worker followed me into my messy cottage and whistled when he saw the piles of boxes and rubbish scattered around the room.
“Are you moving or something?” he asked,
I explained about my crazy daydream of the king choosing to stay in my humble abode, about how I had tried to tidy up my cottage and the spare room and how all this was the resulting mess.
He laughed good-naturedly, shifted a pile of papers from a chair and sat down. I got his glass of water and pulled a lopsided disaster of a cake out of the larder.
“I even tried baking a cake” I told him ruefully, “that turned out wrong too”.
He helped himself to a large slice and ate it in evident enjoyment.
“It certainly may look strange,” he grinned “but it sure tastes fine to me”.
We sat and chatted for a while, talking about the coming visit of the king and all the preparations. He was an easy chap to get on with, and I soon found myself opening up about all my dreams and fears and hopes in a way that I haven’t done for a long time. After a while he got up and I assumed he would be on his way, but to my surprise he offered to help clean up the place. He also offered to cart the rubbish away in his van when we were done. I told him I couldn’t pay him anything, but he said that didn’t matter he would like to do it anyway. He said he enjoyed creating order out of chaos.
Well, I must say he was a great worker; he scrubbed and cleaned, and mended. As the day went on I found myself just following in his footsteps astounded at the miraculous transformation he was making to my humble cottage. I kept him supplied with food and drink as he worked. He polished off the rest of my lop-sided cake, and seemed to be really enjoying himself. By late afternoon we were done, or rather I should say he was done. I could hardly believe it was the same place.
“Fit for a king now.” He said with satisfaction as he loaded the last carton of rubbish into his van.
“Would you like to stay the night?” I offered, “ After all it is getting rather late now”.
He said he wouldn’t as he was expected somewhere else, but that he would definitely take me up on that offer next time he was in my area. I told him to make sure he did, I felt he was a friend now. With a wink and wave he started up his old van, and took off down the road. I walked back into my lovely tidy home, and noticed he had even placed of vase of flowers on the table, I don’t know where he found those.
The next morning everyone in the area was out early, expectantly awaiting the arrival of the king. The mayor and district dignitaries were waiting to greet the royal train at the village station. The plan was that the official party were going to walk up our lane, towards the Mayor’s house, where a grand banquet had been prepared. Everyone who was someone would be attending. Of course that didn’t include the likes of me. Still I was excited at the thought of seeing the King walking past in all his splendour, and thanks to the hard work of my new friend the cottage looked lovely and tidy, not only on the inside, but on the outside too.
Like myself the locals were waiting by their gates hoping to catch a good view as the King passed by. There was a buzz of excitement when we heard the whistle of the train as it approached the station. Then, after what seemed a very long time, we finally saw the royal entourage moving up the lane towards our cottages, making their way towards the Mayor’s home. I must admit the mansion did look splendid after all those weeks of preparation. The mayor’s staff were all waiting to welcome their majestic visitor.
The progress of the king’s group was slow, as he insisted on stopping to greet people as he walked along. I could see the Mayor fawning and dancing attention on the resplendently clothed figure of the king. Eventually they drew close to my own humble cottage, where to my astonishment the king headed straight towards me with a huge smile. I was shocked and speechless as I looked at him. He just grinned, and to my amazement winked at me.
“This is the place I am staying tonight.” He announced to the astonished Mayor and dignitaries.
“But, but this is just a cottage” stammered the mayor, “You are mistaken, look that is my home up there, we have a banquet and everything ready for you sir,”
But the king insisted, “ No this is where I will stay, I know for a fact that it is fit for a king, and I have also heard you can get some pretty tasty cake here, strange looking maybe, but tasty” he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
And with that he took me by the arm, and steered me into my humble but now clean cottage. Firmly he closed the door on the still stuttering and astonished Mayor. And I found myself looking into the smiling face of my unexpected guest, my king, my new friend and the cleaner of my home.
Note from Rosemary
The idea for this story came after I had been contemplating the passage in John 13: 1-11, (Jesus washing his disciple’s feet). Especially verses 3 & 4 “Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from the God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel round his waist---”. He took on the role of a servant in order to bring cleansing.
Also I was thinking about Philippians 2: 6 & 7 “Who, being in the very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant being made in human likeness”
It struck me anew that because Jesus approaches us as a servant, he can deal with all the mess and sin in our lives, the things that make us ashamed in the presence of our heavenly King. He can cleanse and restore us, so that he can present us at God’s throne spotless, with hearts and lives that are fit for a king.
