Maryam

When the Spirit Above first breathed out the universe, it was intended that the heart of every creature be filled with light. Some still are, but far too many have turned away, since that day long ago, in the morning of all things. A world that was meant to be bright and warm has become shadowed, and cold.

Maryam, daughter of Elias the Publican, is different. Like a beacon in the spreading gloom, my Maryam is filled with light. Oh yes.

When the Spirit Above made us all, my kind, the cats, were gifted with the power to know the hearts of others; I have seen her heart, and there is nothing in her that is not sweet and good. Maryam’s heart glows so brightly in the darkness, that even humans perceive it.

I had lived eight weeks of my ninth life, when Elias the Publican found me in the marketplace, and brought me to his young daughter. I was a fluffy calico kitten, just looking for someone to play with.

I am of the Folk, and of the Clan of Cat, we of nine life-Walks, upon the earth and under the sun. I am called “Song Maker” by others of my kind, for I sing the tales of who we are, and how we came to be that way.

But on our very first day together, before even an hour had passed, Maryam chose to name me “Sunflower,” for the color of my fur. It is a good naming, so typical of her, and I took it up as my own, from that instant onward.

I am friend and companion to Maryam, daughter of Elias the Publican. I stand beside her, and proudly share her life. I have done so, since that day when she smiled and reached to take me from her father. I shall never leave her, until death finally claims me.

The Spirit Above decreed nine life Walks for my Clan and my kind; there can be no more, and no less. It was made so in the morning of all things, and the Clan of Cat has kept to the place that was set for us. It has always been thus.

Yet, as I sing for you the tale of Maryam, and her bright, warm heart, I am Song Maker of the Ten Walks, for I hold a gift, one that never was given before to one of my kind. Hear my song, and know how it came to be so, upon the earth and under the sun.

I did not know the beginnings of the story I will share with you, when first I came to be the friend of this little girl. That came later. My kind learn of the affairs of humans through listening and watching, and while it may take us longer than a human would need to piece them together, we do learn, perhaps much more than you might suppose.

There are many in the city, who dislike my Maryam’s father, and a few who shun him altogether. He is Elias the Publican. It is he who collects the taxes, and sends the gold thus taken from the people, to mighty Rome. Heavy is the hand of Rome on this place, and the easiest target for the people’s anger is Elias, father of my Maryam.

But they do not hate his daughter. There is no one, in Jerusalem, or Judaea, or in the whole world, who does not love my Maryam. No one at all.

Ten summers ago, she was born to Elias, by Rachel his wife, but what should have been a happy day of celebration, was touched by the darkness that troubles this world.

It was not given to Rachel, to see her child grow. She was taken by the fever, that so often afflicts new mothers, and before another sun had set, she was gone.

A nurse was hired by Elias’ steward to care for the infant Maryam. The new father himself was too torn by his grief to view the newborn little girl, and he buried himself in his work.

As is sometimes the way of one whose life has been shattered, Elias became bitter and cold, and those from whom he wrested money for taxes, hated him the more for it. They called him “No Mercy,” and “Caesar’s Friend,” behind their hands.

Two summers passed, then three, while Elias sank ever deeper into the darkness of his loss. His was an uneasy household, where even trusted servants feared to have speech with him, and slaves avoided his sight. Punishments became severe, and tongue lashings an everyday occurrence.

And still, Elias the Publican avoided the nursery room of his child, the little daughter of his lost Rachel.

There seemed little hope for anything better, in the house on the street by Siloam’s Pool, where a child of three summers now played, upon the earth and under the sun.

But the Spirit Above is a being of light. He does not forever abide dark shadows and night, and the darkest corner may yet see day, while the earth is still turning beneath the sun. So it is sung, and so it has been remembered, by those of my kind, since the morning of the world.

Elias, watching his servants and slaves for some sign of offense, began to see that much time was spent by them, in the nursery of his motherless child. Cleaning maids and scullery slaves, whose work would seem to give them no need, were yet seen going and coming from her door.

Those who came forth from there, seemed always to be smiling, as if given some gift only they could see. Confronting such a one, and meaning to demand explanation, he was greeted by a cheerful “Good morning, Master!” where he had been more accustomed to nervous silence at best.

Thunderstruck, he waved the slave on about his work, paused a few moments, then continued into the nursery itself. There were four servants there, where only the nurse should be, and Elias opened his mouth to chastise.

And then the sun burst upon him, in the person of a laughing, beautiful child, someone he’d heretofore only glimpsed in passing. Maryam his daughter transfixed him with her warm brown gaze, and held up her arms to her father, and the cold lonely darkness of Elias’ life was melted away.

The servants looked at one another and quietly smiled, for long had they wished to arrange just such a meeting. A father, who had not really known, and little cared that he was one, took up his child in his arms and cried, and they knew that the worst was now over.

As the Spirit Above decreed, in the morning of the world, every night must see a dawn, and every darkness end, and so it was in the house on the street by Siloam’s Pool, where Elias the Publican dwelt.

Day passed on the heels of day, and summer upon summer, as Maryam grew in a home now filled with joy and light. Her father became much more lenient in his workday dealings, if only to have the day over, so he could hurry home to the little girl, who had become the joy of his life, upon the earth and under the sun.

Maryam was seen outside her house for the first time, as Elias carried her forth upon his shoulder, and those who had called him “No Mercy” gasped and asked, “Is this the same man?”

For he laughed and smiled fully as much as his child, and greeted and shook the hands of all those he met. Those who walked by Siloam called them “Sunshine and her father,” and some of them, who chuckled and smiled, had not done so, in far too long.

And thus did Maryam’s spell begin to spread. Before a month had passed, all of the city had heard of the “Sunny Child.” In her presence everyone smiled, whether they’d meant to or not, and walked away with a springy step, into a day somehow brighter, and warmer.

More than a few made it a habit to come conveniently strolling by the house, where Elias the Publican lived with his small daughter, knowing the proud father would bring her out each afternoon, to breathe the cool evening air. A congenial, cheerful gathering began to be seen there most evenings, hoping to see them emerge.

Maryam had seen six summers when I became her friend. On a cloudless summer day, Elias was making his way home, and walked through the marketplace, as had become his custom, for it was shorter that way. As he passed a booth of woven goods, his eye fell upon a basket of new kittens, I and my siblings, there in the shade.

He promptly chose the one with the brightest fur, and offered a denarius for me, but was told with a laugh and a broad smile to take me and go. The woman at the booth knew him well, and easily guessed whose gift I was meant to be.

Home then he almost ran, already chuckling, straight to Maryam’s room, where he held me up before her bright eyes, and said, “I’ve brought a new friend for you! This little kitten was in the marketplace, and she said ‘Please take me to Maryam!’”

For my part, I’d already lived eight times before, eight Walks upon the earth and under the sun. I had been given as companion to other human children, but when I saw the heart of this child, I felt it was I, who had received the gift. She was simply made of light, in a sadly darkening world. To the eyes of Cat, her soul sparkled, and glowed.

“You shall be “Sunflower,” she said and smiled, and then laughed with joy. “You and I will play games, and have wonderful days, and never, ever cry!”

So we did, and life was good, as I grew from a small kitten toward my adulthood. Other parents brought their children to play with Maryam, noticing quickly that they became happier, less troublesome, more like Maryam herself. They in their turn, affected their parents, for no one can frown at a beautiful child.

The shadows began to draw back then, from the part of the city near Siloam’s Pool. The darkness that had filled the hearts of women and men began to fade, as they became nearer to what the Spirit Above had intended them to be. Laughter was heard once more, where only tears had been, upon the earth and under the sun.

It should have been enough, but sadly, there is another spirit in the world, one which loves darkness, and fears the light of day. There is a power which hates the Spirit Above, and its name is Adversary. All that lives and is good is its enemy, no less the Clan of Cat than that of Man.

When two more summers had passed, its malign gaze was drawn to Maryam, the child whose heart was filled with light. Its anger grew, as the darkness it loved was banished away.

We were playing one day, by Siloam’s Pool, with the other children there, while their elders lounged and gossiped in the cool of the day. Servants too, talked with one another as they came to draw water, and smiles were on every face.

The troop of Roman cavalry that scattered us, came out of nowhere. They rounded a corner without warning, and burst into our midst as they were returning to the old fortress of Antonia.

It must be admitted that they really meant no harm; we were simply in the way, and they were upon us before they even knew we were there. The screams of the people frightened the horses, and chaos ensued.

Children, adults, pets, all fled madly, trying not to be ridden down, and in my fear I ran out among the horses. My Maryam darted to pick me up, but a plunging horse struck her, and flung her backward. And then they were gone, without really noticing what they’d done.

As the thundering hooves faded, the street quieted once more, and we began to pick ourselves up. It seemed at first that no one had received any harm more grievous than scrapes and bruises. There were some angry words, stemming more from fright than anything else, and then a few laughs.

But when an adult stooped to help Maryam to her feet, she gave a little shriek. As I bounded to her side, I saw tears streaming down her face. She had fallen backward across a stone, and now there was something wrong with her legs. No! Oh, no!

I was appalled. It was me! She had been trying to get me from under the hooves! I wanted to hide from what I had done.

A wise-woman, from the group by the pool, examined her with a worried frown. She asked Maryam several times to move her toes, but she could not. The woman shook her head and muttered, and then sent one of the other children racing to fetch Elias the Publican.

Elias came at a run, distraught and weeping himself, and in turn sent for servants, who brought a litter to carry my Maryam home. “Where’s Sunflower?” she cried as they lifted her. “Where is my cat? Is Sunflower all right?”

Her father looked about, and seeing me, scooped me up and set me on the litter beside her. “She’s fine, sweetheart. See! Here’s your friend.” Then the four worried menservants gently picked up the litter and carried us home.

The Clan of Man have a saying: one never knows how much he loves someone until that person is injured or gone. I have, in my nine Walks, upon the earth and under the sun, loved many a human companion. The young children were always the best, for they love cleanly, intensely, and without condition.

Now I became suddenly aware, that of all of the living creatures I had ever met, of all of the Clans of the Folk, it was Maryam, child of sunlight, that I loved most and best. That I would give my life for her was without question; without Maryam, there would be no life left to give up.

How could I bear to see her there on the litter, a child of eight summers, who should be playing in the sun? Yet there she lay, carried away like some sad broken doll. Surely everyone could see my guilt, the awful thing I had done. I wanted to run away and hide.

Elias wept and wrung his hands, and the people by Siloam’s pool stood stunned, as if they had seen the sun itself fall from its place in the sky.

Adversary leered then, and the darkness, so lately driven away, flooded back, eager to claim us.

Once she was home and laid in her chamber, a physician was called for Maryam, and when he shook his head, another, and then two at once, each more skilled and costly than the last. All examined her tenderly and then sadly looked away.

One finally spoke to her father and said, “This injury has no treatment, Elias. The pathway for life’s energy to reach her legs and feet is broken, severed by the stone upon which she fell.

“You must go to the Temple, and make sacrifices, and pray for her, sir. Barring a miracle, she will not walk again.”

And darkness, for eight summers held in abeyance by a single happy child, crashed down as if a mountain had fallen upon us all. Elias the Publican fell back in a chair, and covered his face with his hands. The servants fled from the room, and I curled up beneath her bed and cried and grieved, after the manner of my kind.

It was unthinkable. And I had done this! It was I who had run the wrong way in my panic, and Maryam who had come after me! If only I had not been so stupid, she would not be lying there, like something broken and discarded. I wanted to die, to end my Walk then and there, and journey on.

But the Spirit Above is kind, and, would not have it remain thus. What had happened could not be allowed to stand.

“Please don’t cry, Papa,” she said in her sweet childish voice, just as if nothing were wrong. “Won’t you get Sunflower from under the bed for me? I can’t bear to hear her grieve so.”

With tears streaming into his beard, Elias dove beneath the bed, took me in his large hands, and gave me into her arms. Maryam was smiling! All about her had been crushed by the tragedy that had befallen, but the child of sunlight smiled!

“No one must cry, Papa,” she said. “I’ll be all right. I have you and Sunflower to talk to me here, and Nurse can read to me.”

I saw her heart and knew it was so. She was not dismayed, simply because she refused to be; what filled her could never be defeated by mere bodily harm.

I purred as loudly as I could, and rubbed against her face. I felt as if I had myself come back from my grave. I gave her a special, secret name then: in my mind she would be “Bright Heart,” now and forever more.

The word quickly spread among the servants, and it was as if they had all begun to breathe again. Maryam is not beaten! She smiles! And if she could, then could we not all?

Two maidservants dashed to the marketplace and came back with armfuls of flowers to sweeten the air of her room, bought from what little they had. Cook made a sweet pudding, flavored with the berries that come from Lebanon. Small gifts arrived from everywhere, as the neighborhood heard the news.

The darkness of the world, poised to destroy, fled away beaten once more. Light was too strong, when even a single heart held true; Adversary would not win, not here in this house, and not on this day!

But I still knew in my heart, the terrible thing I had done. It was Maryam who lay in her bed, but I who must somehow atone. This I resolved to do, if it took all the rest of my ninth and final life.

Elias continued to seek out physicians and healers, spending ever more money, as they were sent for from further away. But the verdict was always the same: the knowledge of the Clan of Man held no answers for Maryam.

He began to go to the Temple each day then, with sacrifices and for prayer. The priests took what he brought, for that was what they did, but they could promise no more than the doctors had.

I saw the hearts of these priests, and knew that most of them had not come to their office out of any great love of their kind. They were empty costumes, Temple peacocks, there because they wished to be admired. Neither healing nor hope could come from them.

And still Maryam smiled and laughed, and loved those about her. Still she hugged and kissed me, a simple cat, who only wanted to make up for my guilt, and to be near her, for that to me was like basking in the sun.

That summer gave way to winter, and winter in its turn to spring, and if anything, her heart became brighter, as if to make up for what her body could not do.

And, since Maryam would not surrender, then neither could we. We were a city balanced on the edge of a precipice, kept from plunging to hopeless despair by one single, slender, bright thread. That thread was my young friend, Maryam herself.

It was about this time that I began to overhear talk, at the pool and in the marketplace, of another doctor, a very great one. In a village by the great lake that lay in the north, a doctor had come, and was healing the sick, and the lepers, and even the blind.

If I had been able to find out the name of the village, or even how far it was, I might have tried to go there. But what if I had? I could not use the speech of humans; how could I even tell him of Maryam’s need?

But my guilt drove me; I needed to do something, and I began to listen more closely, whenever I saw groups of humans talking. Over the course of time, I started to put together the pieces of the tale.

Some called him one thing, others another. Some scoffed at the stories of his skill as a doctor, because he apparently travelled with a group of crude fishermen from the great lake. He even associated with Samaritans, and women of low estate, something no great scholar of the time would do.

How could a man like that help my Maryam, when the greatest healers Elias had been able to hire could not? Still, I wondered. This man seemed nothing like the empty priests I had seen at the Temple. Some said that he played with children, and had made his followers allow them to come to him.

Elias the Publican had by this time, also become aware of the rumors. Desperate to find help for his daughter, he had several times sent agents with silver, to hire the new doctor, but always his money had come back to him untouched.

There are sharp limits to what one like me is able to learn from humans, about their affairs and their world. The Clan of Cat simply are not scholars, and nor are we accustomed to deep thinking, on weighty matters.

Still, the tale just did not work out, in my mind. Perhaps I was chasing dust motes in the sun, but I could not help wondering; there was too much about this story that was different.

Maryam herself was unconcerned with doctors and treatments. She was too busy living her life, as it was given her to live. She asked to be carried outside, upon the new litter Elias had purchased, to be closer to others her age, and I always came along, in her arms or walking by her side.

Shy at first, unsure how to act, the other children came. First by ones and twos, and then by the dozen, they came to be near her and play in her presence. They would tell her their little stories, and brought their own puppies and kittens for her approval.

Their parents soon joined them: workmen relaxing after their day, mothers watching the smallest little ones, aged grannies with their knitting.

Then, because we were so many, and the street so narrow, the evening gatherings moved by mutual assent to the side of Siloam’s Pool, just as they had been before. Every afternoon, in the cool of the day, Elias the Publican would come forth smiling, walking beside Maryam’s litter, and greeting all whom he met as, she was carried to the pool.

The darkness cowered back from them, from the child of sunlight and her smiling father, but I sensed the anger of Adversary growing. That cold spirit would not surrender so easily, I knew. Something even more powerful would be needed for that.

That summer passed, and the winter as well, and the land was beginning to be green again. Life had assumed a kind of normalcy, or at least an acceptance of life as it was. My Maryam never did give way, so I did not either, but I still longed for a way to atone, for what I knew I’d done.

The flowers had just begun to bloom in the courtyard gardens, and the bees to buzz about them, when a rumor began to spread. Those coming from the hill where the olive trees grew, began spreading it first, and the story grew like a fire in a field of ripe wheat.

“The great doctor is near!” was said over and over. “The Healer is in Bethany, staying with friends!”

I ran from the house to Siloam’s Pool, for that was always the best place to hear news and gossip. By the time I reached the pool, everyone was shouting, “The Healer! He is coming! He is coming down the path from the hill of olive trees!”

This was my chance, and probably the only one I would get. Maryam could not go to him, but he might be persuaded to come to her. If I could reach the path from Bethany, as the Healer was passing, if I could somehow gain his attention, make him understand what my need was, perhaps he would consent to come and visit my friend.

The crowd of humans was growing and beginning to move, heading for the gate where the path entered the city. I ran with them, between them, under their feet, any way I could get through. We poured out through the gate and onto the slopes of the hill, and the humans began to break branches from the trees.

“Hosanna!” they shouted and screamed. “Hosanna! Ben David! Son of David! Hosanna!” The crowd was frantic now, totally out of control, as everyone strove to be beside the path, to be near when the Healer passed by.

I could see him! I saw the Healer! He was riding a white donkey, surrounded by his followers. I had to get nearer. I had to make him see me somehow; I had to tell him of Maryam and her bright heart.

“Hosanna!” the people screamed. “Ben David! Yeshua! Yeshua!” They began throwing down the olive branches they carried, carpeting the path before the donkey with them. Some began taking off their cloaks and throwing those down too. “Hosanna!”

I could see him more clearly now, as I ran between the feet of the ecstatic humans. He was a simple looking man, dressed plainly, and wearing no ornaments that I could see.

I reached out to see his heart, and was staggered by what I found. Maryam’s heart was bright, but this man’s was blinding. The love that came from him was endless and intense, enough for every person who had ever lived, or ever would live, upon the earth and under the sun. It was as if the Spirit Above had come down in the likeness of the Clan of Man.

I had to get to him; I had to somehow get through the crowd and reach the path from Bethany in time. “Hosanna!” they screamed. “Yeshua!”

It was then that a woman’s foot came down full across my back. I felt bones splinter and ribs pierce my lungs. Pain lanced through me. No! I had to keep moving! Then a man stumbled over me, and kicked me away, without even seeing what I was.

I fell in some rocks beside Bethany Road, unable to move, with blood pouring from my mouth and nose. I was just a little pile of bloody fur beside the path now, and my task would never be accomplished. My ninth and final Walk was ending, I knew. My Journey was near. “Oh, Maryam, Maryam,” I thought, as my poor body began to die. “It was my fault. I am so sorry.” I began to slide down then, into the black pool of death.

It was then that the great doctor passed me on his donkey, as I lay there by the path. His brown eyes gazed into mine for just a moment, before moving on.

He did not open his mouth to speak, but I heard him nonetheless, in my heart of hearts.

“Take back your life, Song Maker, of the Clan of Cat. Receive back what you so freely laid down. Your very great love has risen up before the One you call Spirit Above, as a tribute to your kind. Go home, Song Maker. The gift you came to ask is already given to your young friend.”

My life rushed back into me then, beside the path on the side of the hill of olive trees. My body became whole again, and strong. I felt young again, and ready to live once more. At that moment I began my tenth Walk, upon the earth and under the sun, with my guilt wiped away, as though it had never been.

What never was granted to my kind before, was mine, given by the One whose heart shone like the center of the sun, there at the foot of the hill where the olive trees grow, by the path to Bethany.

I did as I had been told, and went home, to my Maryam, running and leaping like a new-weaned kitten. I found her there laughing, standing beside the litter on which she’d lain so long.

“Play with me, Sunflower,” she laughed. “Look what a beautiful day has come!” We ran and played together then, while the astonished servants stood with their hands to their mouths. The Healer’s promise was true.

Five days later they killed him. The Clan of Man simply murdered the best and brightest heart that ever had come among them. They tore him apart, and hung what was left on a cross made of wood, to die.

Adversary danced with malignant glee, as the man they called “Yeshua” parted the veil and made his Journey home, to wherever the good of his kind go.

The cruel, cold spirit laughed, and prepared its darkness to cover the whole, sad world. Women wept, and hid their children, and men covered their heads. Hope seemed far away.

But Adversary had not known the full truth. It had not known what power such a sacrifice could unleash. Here and there, a bright heart began to shine in the darkness, first just a few, and then many, and finally, millions.

Some began to say they’d seen Yeshua the Healer alive. Some believed the tale and some did not, but the sunlight that came from human hearts grew, and drove all the darkness away.

I, Song Maker, of the Folk and of the Clan of Cat, now live my tenth Life-Walk, upon the earth and under the sun.

Beside me walks a beautiful child, a child now fast approaching young womanhood. My friend Maryam, of the bright, warm heart, walks, and runs, and laughs, and loves, upon the earth and under the sun.

What never could be, was given to me, by the Healer on Bethany road.

END