Short Story - Night with the sick baby
To order my books:Sheila the Vampire: Dancing with the Enemy
Night with a sick Baby
By Grant Eagar
Prompt: The picture, ‘The Holy Family at Night’ by Rembrandt.
The
baby’s fever burned hot threatening not only to destroy the sickness, but life
itself. The mother and the grandmother sat in silent vigil. Watching, praying,
hoping, despairing, crying, and then hoping again.
Baby
Anna was Julia’s only-child; she’d waited long for the blessed baby; why . .
. why must the little girl leave? What was
the purpose of the visit from the angel of death? And the call from his darker
brother; despair?
Despair, you dark, pitiless monster, depart,
depart, you will not own me tonight. I
will have hope, I will have faith . . . light will fill the abyss of my doubt
and fear.
Agatha,
the child’s grandmother embraces Julia, encircling her fear with hope and love.
The grandmother had sat through the long night before; she had fought the demons
of doubt and walked away sane and whole.
An
hour later Agatha sang a lullaby; the baby is asleep, fighting the fever of
death. The song is not for the child,
but for Julia, who must hear the words. The
girl needs to feel that everything is as it should be, even though it’s not.
Another
hour, the night is at its blackest and still the fever burns on . . . heedless
of prayers and cool wraps. Then Agatha pleads, “Merciful God, are thou mindful
of us? Please spare our child.”
Dawn
comes . . . light peeks over the mountains and the fever has broken, more tears,
but now of joy. The messenger of death has loosened his grip on the child and
passes on. He will not return again tonight.
Anna
awakes, she smiles, the smile is as rays from heaven, she giggles and coos,
they are as the sound of angels. The pains
of the night fade fast and life returns.
There are beds to be made, water to be drawn and most importantly a baby
to be fed.
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