The Golden Orb of Important Things
Once
upon a time there was a baby girl. She
was christened Susan, and at her christening, when the Fae came to bless her
birth, they brought with them a golden orb that showed the most important event
taking place in the world at any given time.
They held it before her, her parents, her godparents and grandparents
and promised her that when the time was right, they would let her take three
looks into the mirrored surface to see important things.
So
it was that Susan was raised in the knowledge that someday, when the time was right,
she would look into the golden orb and see three events of unparalleled significance. Imagining all the things of importance she
might see, Susan lived her life with a sense of splendor. She sought desperately to prepare herself for
such a viewing, learning everything she could about anything considered vital,
or paramount—anything important. Education
of art and culture, complicated sciences and mathematics, politics and research
studies, as well as wealth and discovery and anything that involved the word ‘best’
or ‘preeminent’ or ‘success’ was found to play a fundamental role in her
formation. And in a life of such grandeur,
her world was a ball of shine.
So,
too, anything that spoke of less, or was shabby and ‘low-brow’ had no place in
the world of Susan. For, to become
steeped in anything of that kind would lessen her for the greatness she was,
one day, to witness.
When
the day came for Susan to look upon the golden face of the orb, the Fae came
for her. It was an ordinary day, and
Susan could not help feeling that the fairy creatures should have picked a
better one—one with shining sun and bluest skies. But that did not dampen her excitement, for
this was the day she would look and see the three most important events in all
the world at this particular moment in time.
Thus,
when the Fae set the gold orb before her, Susan looked.
She
saw a woman of middle years, her dress of hardy linen, but filled with holes, and a
ragged shawl of red wool upon her shoulders.
The woman stopped before a man, too thin with weariness and hunger. She looked him right in the eye and smiled
kindly, all the while draping her cloak about his bony shoulders and slipping
him a loaf of bread.
The
image cleared to nothing more than a golden surface. Susan frowned. Perhaps the orb had made a mistake. Or perhaps the world was merely going through
a slow minute. But when she looked up into
the faces of the fairy creatures, they told her to look again.
She cocked
her head, blinked, and opened her eyes before the orb.
She
saw a tall man, his body thick with muscles, and with a look of fury upon his
face as he advanced upon a woman whose cowering body stooped over three small
children. He raised his fist in
anger. Then, he set it down. And fell on his knees and wept.
Susan
blinked again as the image cleared. A
crease appeared between her brows. She glanced
up at the Fae again, but they simply nodded toward the orb.
And
so she looked a third time.
A
withered woman with gnarled hands was moving slowly about a thatched cottage
pulling down dried herbs from hanging branches, crushing them just so, and placing
them in a cloth of clean muslin. A young
woman stood at her door, her clothes stained with grease and blood and with dirt along her fingers and under
her nails. The old woman handed her the poultice
and waved away a dirty proffered coin. In the young woman's place a ragged old man appeared, and the old woman set to work again.
As
the image cleared and Susan blinked, she knew she had looked her last upon the
golden orb. Then she smiled slightly, an
ironic, enlightened grin. For the
foundation of her world had shattered, and on three glances at a golden surface
would she build it up again.