Friday, November 22, 2013

She No Longer Wears White



The girl is beautiful.

Young.

Pure.

She stands near the road in a white dress. She's ready for her wedding day, but she's a young bride. Inexperienced. She is spinning in her dress, showing her friends the lace around its edges.

The man is just driving through, but he notices her. He notices her dress.

She is beautiful.

Her friends disperse when he approaches. But she's too happy to think bad thoughts. She only smiles up at him.

Later, she is in his car. And she is crying.

Maybe he stops along the way. Maybe he has his way with her.

But maybe not. Maybe his greed is stronger than his lust, and he keeps driving.

When they stop, the sun is gone. The girl is led through the darkness, into a building she's never seen before. She no longer knows where she is. On the drive, she could not see the scenery fly by. Her eyes were blurred by tears. Her dress is still white. It stands out in dirty surroundings.

The man leaves her there. Another man has handed him a fistful of bills. His greed satisfied, for now, he disappears.

Many years pass. The girl is sold again and again. She has slept with every man in the village, except the good ones. Then again, maybe some of the good ones also. Maybe even good men sometimes do bad things.

When women pass her on the street, they look the other way. She cannot get water from the village well when others are there. She goes in the heat of the day.

She no longer wears white.

Now, you tell me, is this the pretty girl's fault?

Did she do something to deserve her plight? Should she be blamed for the sins of the men who share her bed? Does the slave bear the responsibility of her servitude?

The Church is the Bride of Christ. He clothed her in white. He will wed her when the day comes.

She has been stolen. She has been sold by many hands, taken into many beds, used for evil ends.

Now, you tell me,

Did she do something to deserve her plight? Should she be blamed for the sins of the men who share her bed? Does the slave bear the responsibility of her servitude?

Maybe it isn't her fault.

Maybe it's mine.

1 comment:

  1. Wow… OK, I know I say WOW a lot as a response to your words, but I mean it each time. You leave me with a WOW. <3

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