A Precious Lamb

There was only a teenage girl on the train. She wore a black hoodie, and a black bandana with white flowers over her dark hair. All her clothes were dark.

She carried a snow white and unblemished lamb in her arms. She buried her face in it’s wool. She was crying, and whispering a prayer.

The girl had the quiet dignity and grace of a biblical heroine, from those drawings I used to see in my Sunday School class in my small southern church.

 

We were going through the underworld, through Tartarus and past Elysian Fields, to the place where the innocent are honored and healed, no matter their wounds.

The little lamb nuzzled it’s head against her cheek, and she kissed it and pulled it closer to her.

No angels saw her through this part of the journey, just the guardian she’d chosen from how she’d been in life. A precious lamb.

 

The tears carried away the poison and pain of her murder. The wool sopped it all up and swallowed it, all of it gone from her forever.

The day she was taken, she was to buy a lamb to raise as her own, in the little dirt backyard in that city by the ocean.

The sky was blue that day, with the white clouds like lambs up in the air, that would never gambol on the patchy grass of a city backyard.

 

I, the conductor, finally stopped the train, the end of the line for me. She was home now, where all would make her whole and free again.

She carried the lamb, held close to her chest, out into the sunlit meadows and everlasting spring, like in Heidi, her favorite movie.

Healing came in the wind, and the warm sunlight that dried her tears, and gave her soul the light to shine back at the world she’d been taken from.

 

She fell to her knees, and the lamb licked her face as she felt all the weight of her troubled life and violent death was lifted from her.

She let go of the lamb and it went running into those lush and gentle meadows, and smiling once more, she chased after it, off to a million adventures.

All was well for her now, all was healed and she was whole, the Light of God shining on her forever.

 

I reversed the train, headed back to Earth, to the living. More souls to the next world. More souls to meet their faces in their guardians.

Loved ones left behind, hurting, couldn’t only get the Light of God in shadows and in occasional waves.

On Earth, we all walked in brokenness, hoping all would be well someday, that we’d all be welcomed by Him.

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