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by sybil Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Fiction · Children's · #634139
This is a fairytale for young children about the birth of soul and song.
 The Silver Chalice Open in new Window. (E)
This is a fairytale for young children about the birth of soul and song.
#634139 by sybil Author IconMail Icon

Close your eyes and pretend with me. It is many, many years ago, way before yesterday was even thought of. If you look around, it looks much like this, but there is something missing. It does not sound like this. It does not sound hardly at all. Something, somehow is missing. See if you can figure out what it is, so you never ever lose it.

The people here are empty inside. All is quiet, except for the Tromp! Tromp! Tromp! of their feet as they trudge down to fetch water from the river. Yes, in this land that used to be, there is a river here with grass and trees and all kinds of living things. But the frogs, the crickets, the birds; all are silent. Well, at least no one can hear them.

There is a small girl sitting in this very spot -in this long ago time. In her hands is a small dirty tarnished bowl. What is it? What shall she do with it?

Her mamma turns around to see that the girl is no longer following behind her.

"Put that dirty thing down! You hear me, girl? It probably ain't good fer nuthin," yells her mother. She frowns and wipes her brow with the back of her hand, not wanting to be kept from her work by the whims of the little girl.

"Oh, Mamma, wait! Maybe it is pretty underneath," pleads the girl. She uses the bottom of her own dingy dress to wipe off the grime.

"Look, Mamma! Underneath it is silver and pretty!"

"Well, bring it along then, but hurry," says the mother, not caring much one way or another.

As they trudge along, the little girl takes great care to rub the chalise clean. After a while, the bowl begins to sparkle and shine. The girl is startled, for within each sparkle that shines, a music note plays. The girl never heard such sounds! She jumps, dropping the bowl, "Splat!" right in the mud upside down.

She frowns and hurries to pick it up, hoping her mama won't leave her behind. Again, each time she rubs the bowl, music and light pour out, touching leaves and grass and trees, changing everything around her. The light dances in her eyes and she listens with her heart, and for the first time in her young life, she smiles.

"Mama!" she calls excitedly, "Oh, Mama, Wait!"

The mother turns, overwhelmed to see on her child a look of joy, a light shining from her face. I know what that is, thought the mother, I remember.

Music continues to fill the air and suddenly, the steady tromp, tromp, stops. All of the people, all of the children, begin to smile as they turn to look upon the little girl, upon whose face, hope was born.

© Copyright 2003 sybil (sybill at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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