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The Basin

This is the fifth entry from my upcoming booklet, “Our Darkness, His Light”.

 

washing-hands

THE BASIN

Matthew 27:24

 

 

Miriam awoke from a restless sleep to the voice of her mother calling.  She quickly arose from the small pallet in the corner of the one-roomed hovel that she called home.  Across the dim room she saw her mother’s figure huddled in the far corner on her own pallet.  Early morning sunlight streamed through the slats of the wooden window and one pale beam cast its rays across her mother’s hair.

Miriam hurried across the room and knelt beside her mother.  Her mother lay on her side, her face turned away from the center of the room.  Miriam reached out to touch her face.

“Mother, you’re hot.”  Her tiny voice echoed in the room.  Her mother lay back and Miriam saw the beads of sweat that covered her face. She saw the stains where the sweat had soaked through the armpits.

“Miriam.”  Her mother’s voice was weak.  “I am ill.  It is the fever.  You must go and work for us today.”

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