This is awesome...

Tammie,

My little girl... now 16 and driving... finished an essay for school and knowing how you feel about God's word and young people (a passion for both) I just had to send you her latest creation. The students were to pretend to be an inanimate object and describe their day. Monika saw it as an opportunity and attached below is the results.

Please give my Christian Love to Kent and others!
Melissa

Dawn Till Dusk

Sunlight streamed through the open window, warming my binding and dispelling the nighttime chill. The brightness revealed my aging features, my once black cover now a faded gray and my edges bent and torn from use. But I do not mind; I still have many years to go before my glue comes undone. I smile as I remember when I was fresh off the printing press. I was so nervous about my purpose in life. I found joy when William More bought me because he was so eager to read the Bible in his own language, English, instead of the official Latin of the Church. He found solace in edifying himself through my scriptures. How happy I was when I finally discovered the elusive use of my pages! Comforting people with hope for the future and educating them on God’s will is what I was created for. Therefore, I continue to be a loyal aid to my Master William.

Now I relax in the sun as I wait for Master William to awake. Mornings are my favorite. This is our time, when Master William settles at his desk and soaks up the inspired words from my passages. I watch as he wakes with the sound of songbirds and wait patiently as he shuffles toward me, still groggy from a restless night’s sleep. He sits at his creaky chair and opens me wide, giving me a breath of fresh air, his fingers a gentle breeze turning my pages. Hmmm… I sense he needs courage to face the day, so I hope he turns to Hebrews chapter 13 verses 6. And he does! I listen contentedly as he murmurs “The LORD is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?” I hope he takes that to heart, for he has been unusually somber lately. I assume it is because of Richard, his brother-in-law, who has been overly officious lately and even accused Master William of heresy. However, our problems are momentarily subdued as we spend the morning reading God’s word.

Wow, has time flied! I realize our reading is up when Master William sees the time is twelve-thirty. Suddenly, a harsh rap on the door startles us. Master William closes me, gently places me in the bottom drawer, and covers me with his notebooks. I hate this stuffy place! It bemuses me why every time someone visits I get hidden in this claustrophobic darkness, although Master William must have a reason. I listen attentively as he opens the door. To my horror, several men forcibly push past him into our house. I start shaking as one of them begins tearing books off Master William’s shelves, letting them fall to the floor with loud thuds, and the other two men grab Master William and tie his hands behind his back. What is going on? The first man heads toward the desk. He takes out the first few drawers and empties them, despite my master’s protests. It hits me like a thousand chariots: these men are looking for me.

After being hurled upside down, bruised to Revelation, rudely examined and being jostled around in a stinky carriage, Master and I are dragged before some judges. Master William stands erect before them, my beloved and honest master, charged for heresy. An accuser slams me on the nearby table for evidence, sending a shiver of pain up my spine. This is not judicious, I should be evidence that he is not a heretic, but they are saying that reading the Bible is forbidden to the laity and that possessing a vernacular translation is extremely seditious. Wait a second, the common people can read Robin Hood but they cannot read me? I pity the church leaders that concocted this, but mostly I pity the poor people who are prohibited from reading their personal bible. I pause from my thoughts and listen to them declare Master William’s sentence. The head judge’s words cut as sharply as scissors slicing through my soul. I am in disbelief, utter shock. We are to be burned alive at the stake. I can already feel the flames eating away at my edges, my words choked by the smoke.

But I watch my words ring clear in the heart of my Master. I see him standing firm in the face of death, assured that he is innocent in the eyes of God. Reflecting on precious memories with him calms me in this time of turmoil. The joy I gave Master William when he read me. The peaceful, perfect morning, before fear and prejudice swept it all away. Now I understand why he hid me all those years. The leaders of these dark ages feel threatened by the veracity interwoven in my writings. I pray, that despite however tight the clergy clench their fists, streams of knowledge will eventually flow to peoples of all nations and they will be refreshed in its truth. Alas, that day is not today. Thus Master Williams breathes his last and I shrivel to ashes at his feet.

Monika Rike

English III 7

28 November 2008