LIMBO. By Aileen Cleave
The smell was the worst thing. The pungent, fetid smell of death, death on a scale unprecedented in those narrow, filthy plague-ridden streets of London in the year 1348.
The baby’s screams were fading now. Martha said another frantic prayer but it was clear no priest was coming to these doomed parts of town. Soon the cryer would pass with his death cart. “Bring out your dead” would be cue for Martha to part with her tiny, new-born love. But a far greater terror was chilling her mind. The child had not been baptised. It would die bearing the universal stain of Original Sin which could only be removed by the grace of God’s blessed sacrament of Baptism. Her child would spend eternity in Limbo, deprived for ever of the sight of God.
Uneducated but well versed in the rites of her religion, she brought forth a small jug of precious water. She could spare a little for this vital act. She caused a few drops to fall on the tiny head and made the sign of the cross with her thumb. “In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost”.
There it was done. As the child drew its last breath , Martha basked in the unshakeable belief that her child’s stay in Limbo would now be curtailed and it would eventually be called into the presence of God.
A beautifully crafted story. Nice work Aileen
ReplyDeleteYes, love that....
ReplyDeleteReal misery poor people lived on those days and faith was the only one thing they owned. Really good story Aileen, love it
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