The Artist
Once
upon a time, in a land closer than some would imagine, lived an ordinary girl
with an ordinary name in an ordinary town. “Ugh,” May sighed as the only cloud
in the otherwise clear sky covered the sun, blocking the source for her head
start on a suntan. That’s just my luck, May
thought as she peered over the rim of her sunglasses at the lack of sun in the
sky. Disappointed, she lay there and began to think about all of the instances
in her life where a cloud was obstructing her light: her parents divorce,
trouble with boys, constantly being let down, her recent addiction, rehab, and
being stuck in a town the size of a thumbnail. It was true that most of her
life she had lived in the shadow of one thing or another. All that May ever
wanted was to be loved and to make an impact on the world with her artistic
abilities.
Out of the blue,
putting an end to May’s daydream, a single pink blossom from a dogwood fell
upon her torso. May sat up, startled by the duel irony of the flower; it was
the same flower that she had tattooed on her back after her grandmothers
passing and there was no dogwood tree in sight. How is this possible? She thought as she looked around for some
sort of hint about the strange happening. The wind picked up and simultaneously
her answer was found in the stream of dogwood blossoms dancing through the air.
They seemed to be leading her somewhere, begging her to follow them into the
woods. Impulsively she leaped out of her chair to follow the blossoms, like a
child intrigued by where they might be taking her. May felt inspired, giddy
almost, when suddenly she started hearing a familiar voice. She settled in
behind a bush, eavesdropping on the scene before her. There stood a small crowd
of people all different some dressed in rags. May realized in the midst of her
spying that her sunglasses were gone. I
must have dropped them in my desperate flee towards the woods… dang it, those
were my favorite, she thought to herself.
Out of curiosity,
May snuck out from behind the bush to a nearby tree so that she could be closer
to the event. I know that voice, she
thought. Although she could not see the man’s face, she knew that he was not a
stranger. Her new vantage point caused her to discover the purpose of this
gathering; the people were receiving rewards of some sort. The faces of the
people looked perplexed, like maybe they didn’t even know why they were there.
“Today, you all step up in rank,” said the familiar voice. May witnessed a
women in rags receive a badge for being noble, a man with tired eyes being
given a certificate for his faithfulness, and a small boy in full armor was
given a sword recognizing that he was being honored for his bravery.
The familiar voice
boomed, “May Jewel, would you please step up to receive your reward?” Startled,
May stepped out gingerly from behind the tree. How did He know I was here, she thought as she obediently
progressed toward the man, whose face was hidden by the sunbeam that was
piercing her eyes through the tree’s canopy. I guess that cloud finally moved, May thought, I wish I had those sunglasses. “May, I know that you are an artist
because you are the hardest one to deal with,” said the man. The crowd giggled
at his statement. “Today I present
you with this ring so that you know I acknowledge your perseverance”. May began
to tear up as she realized who the man was, The Artist. “I am not deserving of
this reward sir,” said May, as her heart melted in her chest. “No, you are not,
but you will be.” The man grinned and his smile seemed to reach across his
entire face, a welcoming smile. “You have been given great gifts, and although
you have lived in the shadow you will soon step into the light. Use those gifts
May. Think of this ring as a promise for your future. Good things are going to
happen to you.”
Sweat dripped down
May’s neck, heat consuming her body. Her eyes fluttered open and she was back
on her chair basking in the sun. I must
have fallen asleep, she thought, and
the sun must have decided to come out from behind that cloud. She examined
her sun burned body as well as her hand, hoping for a second that the ring in
her dream would be present on her finger. I
wonder how long I was asleep… and what a strange dream that was. May peeled
herself out of her chair to go get a drink from inside. Halfway to the door she
realized she had forgotten her sunglasses but when she turned around to
retrieve them they were not there. What she did see made her heart race and her
hope come to life; a small pink dogwood blossom resting under her chair, no
tree in sight.
“But we also rejoice
in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance;
perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us,
because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he
has given us.” Romans 5: 3-5
