Christentine

by Arn

Rating: everyone
Tags: Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Princess Luna, Drama, Crossover
Length: 15703

Render under, with treasure, loyalty, service, pray for good things(blessing, peace,wisdom,salvation) for your leaders.

A building. Full armor Celestia enters in to administer justice.
A building. With parchment and regulation subterfuge, Celestia goes to inspect.
A building. Circumspect behind curtain quite seated Celestia attend a meeting.

The attendees fear the worst!

Published 2020-06-16 17:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-08-23 04:16:25 UTC

Foundations

Not many ponies with sound solid pony lineages had a hard time to come up with anything wrong with the world, but his congregation was different...they knew too much. His ponies had needs, everyone that had come to him, to that building, to that belief, because it was the only thing that seem to sate that burning, the need for more...more what?

Something cake, nor food,or drink, or spirits nor destiny, nor work, that relationship only for an inkling moment could satisfy. A desire that if you had not work hard to be done for the day collapsing with a snore, would keep you upright crying.

Those times wondering what they were missing, with different motives causing ponies to searching, some leaving house going afield others just out there doors down the streets to the markets. Some to their closets, clean out, finding old papers and writings, not paid attention to before.

Coming here, a place like this, some meandering some with purpose. Some, greedy intent some...other motives, all and all gathering, exploring what their heart was missing.

Life, to have more life!

The burning desire! The good thing inside all good things, life inside love, all desire Imago Die had for his Intercessor and those called He always Imago Dei!

Love is life and God is love. 'He who does not love knows not God, for God is love!" May our love be evident to all!

Yet some would reject it:
'My flesh. My body.My blood.' 'Take the cross up daily' 'Deny one's self' 'Get right with your brothers' your relationships.

Some run from it, some come back, other with anger and vengeance against it and some of those,cooled of,back with them, as well as the others, some.

He smiled,"...but who knew, after so much time, under Celestia's Sun, who was purely pony and who was not?

Sometimes, a pony was just called whether he had nebs or no and not all called were chosen. "Some would be out there with us in part, but never enter his building again." He thoughtfully considered.

However he could not think he was special for his religion or spirituality, he chewed his cheek. Do not be overly proud.
He thought.

'Broken off for me, then be afraid, lest that you be broken off for the one restored!'"

"Believe in the Son, He would come and live inside, then there would be more purpose and you will not need or be as hungry. But you're still there opening the eyes looking finding it hard to believe...you're here."

Dejected again."If I speak in tongues but have not love, I am but a clanging gong or a noisy symbol."

An hour before service the pastor still hadn't come up with a sermon.

~

It had only been a scant few months since Celestia had brought the strange ponies to Equestria, not even time for children and already, great works were going up all over Equestria! Fast advances in medicine and science as well as great public works and competition as ponies woke from their apathy to say, "We, I, can do it better! I can make it better! I can go beyond what is being built! That is silly, this is simpler and works!" And "No! Simply no! Look for yourself the base is to big for the building, to thin, and the structure, inside the cement and fascia, can't take the torquing and stressing. Common sense tells you, to at least, research before building such a tower, let alone let the top..'orbit the planet' ,whatever that means..."

That didn't mean lesser buildings of as much or more import were being built.

"Can you believe such a thing?"said one pone to a brother as they watched the building rise from the carefully hewn stone and well made brick for color."To actual see, before my eyes, some so devoted to building for us a place to worship God, with windows and arches!

From a little cheap house in town too out here this!

Like seeing those of our world build the cathedral, devoted to the perfection of it!" Watching astonished as a pony lay across a wall and dropped a plumb for measure, while holding a stout based torch above, illuminating as brightly as "Christmas Present Ghost's", ponies pushing rock to straight lines, rolling the stone, kneading it like bread, as a pegisi moved and shaped clouds, taking a break and eating to regain strength, then at it again with twice as much tenacity!

Plumb Bob's torch wasn't the only one. Ponies had theirs and massive cauldrons bright enough to light every courtyard in the town stood atop stalagmites piled high by the stone molders, molded of stone themselves looking like ragged moons eclipsing ancient fiery smokey suns!

Shadows danced in Davidic celebration beside the ponies working,cast in the flickering right. They Rolled and surged and jumped the backs of the ponies working in torch flames raising and falling, in similar deferential rites to the Pentecostal!

"Zeal for your house consumes me' as it says in Psalms 69:9 and John 2:17...aye! Just look at them! Hardly a strange pony among us would have done such work! Sneaking off to the site at night to work, good Lord!

Building on a place these caves they, they deemed most sacred for so long!

Of such noble character, surrounded us, we thinking they to harm us!

Taking the book in eager hooves and going back and forth through the pages...some trotting through the pages, he promised not ever again, the laurel wreath, (no better! a simple circlet, who else but a carpenter) is his to keep, an heir loom for his family...finding it fit together so neatly...incredible!
Even my son-in-law,Scrape Sky Made, to my adopted, is awed by the work! 'No better!' In the city of towers we all remember, and a credit to the two!"

"Like the Israelites. They work at night, tending their chores and shoring the walls! Work in one hoof torch in the other!"

"I see the sun!"

Glorious sunrise, the purples and blues breaking into golden yellow, rapidly approaching clouds fat with rain.

"SUNDAY!SUNDAY!SUNDAAAAY!"cried the pony as he raced to the workers to the cacofony of bells and shouts and all manner of noise, as the workers came to a stopping point."ALLL! STOPP! ALL STOPPP!"

The work slowing to a stop, workers and towns folk rushed to areas that had to be shorn up and temporarily made solid as to left hanging. Equestria's ponies could work, how they could work! Day and night and day! Families had to stand on their relatives heads before sunset to make them stop, this went on for weeks with ponies sneaking of to work at all hours of the night.

"Work while you have daylight." Quoted a strange pony. "Do your outdoor work first then work on your house." paraphrased another.

The other was severely rebuked by the ponies for taking scripture out of context. The Quoter was counter quoted.
"You live in paneled houses while the Lords house is in ruin' said the prophet and 'Here I am in a magnificent palace while the Lords Ark dwells in a tent!' said Is Real's great king...how can we do anything but better?"

The strange ponies regretted they had taught the ponies so well, more that they were using scripture to buttress their stubbornness.

Another argument:
" 'In all things do to the glory of God' 'whatever you do, do in faith, for outside of faith is sin''whether eat or drink or sleep, do for the glory of God.' how does it glorify God if work necessary for your families upkeep remains undone?
Just as with you and your marks, we have our vocation and in the vocation God expects us to worship him!" this was agreeable to the ponies on whole.

They would hold a lottery, who could work on the building, while paying those who would work on town upkeep and small groups work on weeknights under the lights.

"Saturday we party all night long!"

"Fine?" shrugged the strange ponies,"Don't see what that has to do with building God's Church anyway but okay."

It was Saturday...they were allowed all night. So this was how they chose to party!

Finally, it was the brilliant concept of the Sabbath preserving health and keeping the workers from self inflicted exhaustion,

"No one will do this work on Sunday!"

Get the ponies a little food a little drink, soft cushions and soon they would be asleep, with the congregation hovering round with hymns and lessons and preaching to make certain of Sunday's rest!

Families rushed forward grabbing their kith, lifting high overhead, some squirming and complaining as the workers were rushed along to great tents were tubs awaited. First bath to take off some grime and banish the smell!

What a spectacle! All the movement!
Pegisus dragging in rain clouds to dose the flaming moons with promises of excitement to little ones eagerly below, catching warm water. Scrambling away to get the hot water to expectant bathers.

They would be allowed to throw embers relighting the flames, from their excited hooves. Bright eyes shining for coming adventure in the burst fire and exhilaration of the cauldrons pylon course in a pegisus tight hold at speed, dodging!

The congregation set seats and cushions for an audience...at the head by the podium the pastor set up a table with some bread, his son and friends ran back for the huge rimmed barrel, somehow forgotten( or wanted to show how strong they were for the young fillies) to carry on their backs, enough drink for all.

As he laid out the bread, he worried. Maybe he shouldn't have let the young colts go off like that, pastor was concerned:
'Take the Lord's supper in a holly and honorable way.'

As he arrived at the place where the barrel was carefully set, he was impressed by the stern ceremony by which they carried the barrel and his son hovering over the whole procedure as they lit the barrel on its stand.

"Gently!" He would cry."Don't jostle it! Remember Uzzi son of David! Please, remember God's promises and that he keeps them!"

Maybe he might make a good pastor someday. If it ever left his family, which was necessary and important to do so, let it pass to worthy hooves. "If possible, let my family leave the post honorably."

As a deacon led a procession of volunteer ponies to fill pitchers for the Lord's table, the pastor took the young colts aside encouraged them and prayed with them so that they may participate at the Lord's table in a honorable and holly manner. Expressing his love and concern for their welfare and blessing them.

He returned to the head of the congregation to see all was ready.

He put the wrapped bread down in loves on a long tray, opened the cloth on one and inspected it wrapping it up again. He chuckled. "They would be the strange ponies where we come from!" He looked up to see his congregation coming, wrapped up tastefully in towels, their little ones by their sides, some ponies in some finery made to look from his world under the glorious wide sky a glow.

"The bread of life." He said looking back at the loaves. "When we came here out under that sky Easter, we were thinking of preaching another sermon!"

~

The door flew open his wife came in at a panic, other assistants peered in waiting on what to do.
"Husband!" Cried Maples."There is someone in the hall! They want to speak to you!"
"Well tell them they have to wait till after church. Still trying to forge this sermon...."he said chewing his cheek.

~

Maples had a big red leaf on her bum.
Many thought they made a good pair because the pastor had a huge flaky biscuit illustrated on his!

It had nothing to do with maple syrup, no!

Her's was the mark of the proud family of the Canned...what Canned had to do with Maple leaves no pony could guess, long ago the family had given up explaining! Every year they would gather to celebrate their maple leaves and their illustrious Canned history!

"I a proud member of those of the North." said the Filly proudly.

"Lot's of places has a North.."Retorted the colt, Biscuit.

"That's...that's silly!"said Maples.

"Nuhu!"

"Uhhu!"

(Insert typical childish angst here.)

"Oh Canned Aha" And then tell mixed up tales of dark woods, a lit sky, and a night that would last a season and a place called Quebec...

Second time she almost lost him to a Pegisis at a Church raffle, challenged her to a head bonking contest.

"I bought him he's mine."

"Ptt...it doesn't work that way! Besides what would you do with him?"

The Pegisi leared.

Maples won before thing got out of hoof.

"Your mine!" she said,through a mouth full of lose teeth before passing out on Biscuits back as senior deacons and overseers came to see what the hubbub was about.

Ahem. That is another story!

~

"But Darling!"she gasped at the office door exasperated."Its the Princess!"

Gathering

"Send the squad ahead, catch up and escort, I will give you funds for their libation, for such strange requests from their princess, after they carefully return this to our friends, go now!" She commanded the Guards." Your captain shall catch up!"

The guard moved with the litter, now with spirit, looking forward to the little bit of fun.

As soon as they had gone, Celestia produced a ragged parchment.Harold watched. She wrote upon it, "Pray for the pony Celestia has chosen as judge. ."she paused and lifted the pen considering then brought it down again,"Pray especially for those in the Thundering Herds..."She stopped. That was enough. Celestia produce an equally tattered envelope and folded the letter inside covering both with an acrid yet not unpleasant smell as to make their origin obscure.

Making sure she had his full attention, she hovered the letter before pulling it away from Harold's grasp making eye contact and gently dipping the envelope periodically as she spoke,

"After..your..delivery and the guard....enjoying...themselves...dress in...civilian clothes...circle back, let non one see you! ...Deposit....this..in...the...box!
Return to uniform...return to party...Tell...none!" With the letter she gave him a large purse.

With the purse safely tucked away, he looked down at the letter.

"If curious about these ponies, visit them, Sunday."she said. "You time off. Now go."

Harold bowed and left her majesty's presence. He patted the bag and felt the heft of the purse, it would be quite a party!

~

She was there.It was hard for the Pastor and his wife to believe, the Princess glowing brightly in the great hall, right out of urban legend.

Glorious Sol Invicta herself!

Equestria's Princess!

Oyarsa of Equestria!

Shepard of the Sun!

Steward of Canterlot/Capital/Unicornia City..ect.,ect.,ect!

"Tell me."Asked Celestia, unaware of all deference, mischief in her eyes. "Why is my helmet at the foot of the cross?" looking under it playfully."Where is the rest of it?" She put the helmet down careful not to disturb the immaculate sheen of the metal. The plates tied one after the other, on the back, the wire long gone, with clean colorful yarn showing its age. One segment snapped off some time ago held by the other side of warn looking like a wonderful wind chime for the swirling patina.

"Well...at the yearly meetings, of the churches,"replied the nervous pastor, "it was all agreed ours should get the helmet for our works across Equestria."

"So somewhere in Equestria...there is a church with one of my shoes at His feet, I suppose?"

"As...well as, well, one with a few bits of chain at another...Oh! We try and lift them up, encourage them so at least they may have, well, at least one panel of male...!"

"I must pay them a visit also....My lorica segmentata and lorica squamata, scattered across Equestria, huh?"a glint in eye, talking like a naughty girl child, leaving her clothes all over the house ."....and my Scythe?"

"Your majesty's scythe? ..it is safely kept secure and under guard in a vault. Brought out, symbol of peace, as the churches meet together. Changed, just a little, so it is more useful harvesting grain...Oh uh, under the weapons laws, you can inspect it if you wish.." said the pastors wife. "As a weapon, though, it is no longer usable ...engraved with verses of the bible' Sharper than a two edge sword...' and 'indeed, there is non like it' ,and such, it has lost all flexibility...and rigidity."

Celestia picked up the helmet and looked on the inside.A beautify flowing script of strange letters and foreign numbers, engraved, met her eyes.

"And as a proud Canned, you should know all about weapons...some are guards in my court, Eh?"

"Helmet of Salvation" said the pastor, his wife to red to answer at the moment.

Celestia said nothing, unreadable.

"Oyarsa!" The dancing light seemed to say.

~

"but your majesty...." protested the guard in front of a stretcher covered in her armor.

"I said send it back!" she got off the throne walking over to it. "I'm having new armor made." she glared. "I never want..."so neatly arranged on the stretcher, how it gleamed, polished and oiled, almost looking new, her image reflected, bright clean, radiant.

Speaking quietly and humbly. " Take a message from me to them." she broke her stare and turned away from the armor. "Tell them..."She walked back to the throne, looking back."place it at the foot."

" Y..yes ma'am." he said confused they turned to leave almost upturning the stretcher.

~

Stories ran through the pastors mind stories of persecution, the manx and the com the confused of the democracy, the mob, the criminal element, the crazed king...

"Ma'am...begging your pardon, have you come to collect your clothes?" Knowing service was about to start the next hour."Service is about to start in thirty..we have paid our taxes."

"Yes..."she said handing him a parchment."I will be attending service today."

Pastors wife standing beside him now turned a grey pale, her tail tail sticking out as if exploded with lightning and galloped out of the hall to the back stair, leading around to the lectern and podium, above curtained off area.

~

"Attention!"

This was the third time she had to call the guard to attention. There were things he was seeing things she could not afford for him to connect from the things he observed.

"At Ease..."

Things she could only hid with her magenta eyes.

He was married, she was getting fat and by her erratic actions...

"Attention! Yes I am getting fat. You will tell the court I have gone to the Grey Havens to inquire of the powers and to meditate. When I return, I will be as svelte as ever!

"At ease..."

Wait, didn't the Grey Lady of the Lonely Tower live there in exile? How strange. She came to court with a young foal, warmly snuggled in her bags and then there was that bawdy pegisi who came in spouting nonsense who traded her child for a large bag of gold? Didn't she set herself alight at speed a week later? Impacting at mach speed into the ground...I heard our Great Judge dug her up...

"Attention!" She cried. "I don't know what you are talking about..."she sputtered" all this nonsense in your head !Strange pony!" Celestia sniffed. "Tell the court I will return in a few days...nothing to worry about, heh , I know this God of yours will ensure the sun rises in the sky. At ease."

He smiled. His God. Without saying. How did she know?

All the same looking at her he could swear she was...

"Attention!" She roared. " Am I not your princess?"

"Yes..."

"Do you believe me when I tell you I have your best interest, of your family, of Equstria when I speak to you?!"

"...yes?"

"Will you accept what I say this once? , Will you fuse to your brain what I tell you to be truth in this one matter, and non other once?! "

"I...yes..."

"Again. I say. Tell the court." she drew in a breath. " I am going to the Grey Havens to meditate. To inquire of the greatest of powers. Be assured, it will take much energy, however, there will be...Sunshine!"

Sunshine, she thought, what a nice name!

Her thoughts were interrupted by observing slow shadow that began to darken crawling across the pony's face. These strange ponies! sometimes she thought she could beguile them and then suddenly all traction in her effort would begin to slide away! She didn't know what to do! Points were connecting!

Oh,what would he do?

She went behind him and looked to the sky and silently begged in her mind, "Oh please! I went and brought them. I shouldn't, but I did, for they are yours!

All that is happening, is my fault. Let the blame fall on me. Immortal, unconscionable, nearly unforgivable! Please! Oh please! This pony guard in my court please protect him! He cannot know!
For the rider shall come! For him too his family his town his..."

"As you wish." the pony guard said with a shrug.

Celestia was jarred back from her intense thinking. " What?"

"You are going to the Grey Havens to contact the greater power." he said blithely. "I suspect you are merely going there to vigorously exercise at a frenzy concealed in cold mist for privacy."

"At ease." said Celestia with a heavy blink.

There was a long pause. She smiled."At least keep that to yourself!" she said now with a pout. "I must go." she spread her wings.

"Wait!" he said. "This is such an important responsibility you lay on me, please, let me bless you!" Before she could say no he lay down his arms and hugged her along her shoulders kissing her back and side. " Lose some weight!" He told her side and hugged her again.

Celestia rolled her eyes. These strange ponies! "How you kept secrets. Even from yourselves! Well.Keep your secrets my guard and don't tell any!" she thought.

"My responsibility! No other soul!" he said out loud as if responding, which he couldn't have!

So cute, being so grateful.

This, one of her strange ponies, given such an important task in court. She put her wing around, the simple soul with a smile, and embraced him.

Time was fleeting, for this, she decided, there was time for a hug !

~

He had to buy time.
"Your Majesty!!!"He protested. Soon frantic sounds came from around the alter, pounding and sawing.

They stared to the front with a start.

"Time? Time! Time!!!" cried his wife behind the curtain. "You're a crafts pony, for crying out loud! Just Harden the wood.Can't you anneal it? Don't look at me like an idiot!

Recovering, the stallion swallowed and walked back up to the alter to be before her eyes thinking, he thought of the stories of persecutions from the olden world.

"We...we....can't possibly..."

More frantic ordering from in front behind him."How?!You use an accelerant! Is there is a problem? Speak up! I can't understand your mubbling...What was that?!!!

"I'm sorry, um...not being part of our faith...many of the things we say and do may offend thee!" He had to protect those who wouldn't be coming.

"Ack no! Dry resin!Dry! See ...squishy...DON"T ROLL YOUR EYES AT ME!!!"

"True, I am not a member so I will forgo communion..."pastor followed Celestia's eyes and head, trotting fast, as she turned back to the rows of pews.

"Ahhh! Who left the feathers in glue!!!"

He flushed due to exertion.

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow, painted to a Bible in the pew. " Does it not say in your book ,'if only the congregation would prophesy then the stranger among you would be convicted and come to repentance?"

"File it down file it down!!"

"Anyhoof. My law is quite specific." she pressed a scroll into his barrel.

"I know... not what its called!!Don't...I...don't lecture...I know the process! Just! Get....done! Hurrrrry!"

"Magesty.." Pastor sighed clinching the parchment as he read through it. "This law applies to high officials, inspecting theaters and restaurants...it doesn't apply to us!"

"Unicorn! Fire preventative spell!Faster!FASTER!FASTER!"

"I say it does..."Celestia said Pointing out a window.

"Just I...Yes I know your trying to keep the smells down!"[
/i]

Pastor's eyes were drawn to a large group of stallions, common attire.

"Ahhh!!!NO!NO!NOOO!Put it out! Put it out put it out!!!!!"

"I will sit at this pew here." Celesta was moving back to the front, choosing a pew to seat.

"Good. Good. Gathered all smoke? Good good Pegisi! Yes! Outside. No, outside... there.... GO...OUTSIDE...NOW!"

"You.." said the pastor mentally pulling at his last chess piece.

"...will sit right here!" cried his wife, cheerfully pleasant Maples, her mane a mess, a smile on her face, drawing back the curtain revealing a wonderful boothed alcove just the right size for the princess(big enough for two princesses!) as she went and stood proudly beside her husband.

"My...my desk....hmp!"he said quietly as she cut him off at the ribs with her knee.

"I couldn't possibly." she went in and sat down. "Oh...oh..this is nice."

"This way no one can see you." she drew the curtain with the flourish of the Great Canned Family's gusto.
" And you can still see out!" she said with a smile. "Here is a program with the hymnal, right here, in front of you."

"Hmmm. Thank you...."Celestia said.

"Dear.. All the paperwork is in your office." she said to her husband with a forced smile. "If this is how it starts." she swallowed." This is how it starts."

"I love you." he said their eyes met believing it was the end of the world, he gave her a kiss.

Celestia interrupted."Excuse me." she asked."The hymn says to sing Mezzo Piano then Crescendo to forte, but if i do I'm liable to blow off the roof!"

"Go on, my crumbles." she told her husband.

"Are all services arranged in this order?"Celestia asked.

"Of course not your Majesty!" she said a little to saccharine. "It's all part of the freedom we have being one body! Every church has a different order of there service, in its simplest form, beginning middle and end .You can'y expect them to do the same thing anymore than you can expect the Kidneys and Eyes to have the same function, would you?"

" Of course your Majesty,I' sure if you sing as quietly as you can...It will be enough!" she addressed Celestia pleasantly but was walking up to the princess hesitantly and stiffly. " We are such a small church, a little church, no need to have the roof find its way to the moon. Ha.ha..ha."

What had she said?Celestia seized the little pony in her wings held her close. The pony felt something warm ad wet begin to pool on her neck where the princess head was. She was crying?

"There. There?" said the mare, Maples, confused patting Celestia on the back.

Celestia pulled the pony away and looked her in the eyes.
"Oh...Never say you are insignificant or too small." She turned her around to look at the great hall that was the church." You are greatly loved!"
....that great and empty hall.

The Pastor's wife didn't know what to think.

Author's Note

She was at their side in a moment."Gently!" she scolded."Don't undo all their hard work!"
She found herself staring at the captain, till he bowed down in shame.
"All their hard work..."she admonished."At the foot,understand."she repeated.

"yes ma'am" he said."At the foot."

"Harold?" she asked.

He turned back. "Yes maam."

"Did you see a box in the building?"

"There were many boxes..."

"A small wood box with slit in the lid."

"I saw one marked prayer

Service

Back at the offices the few staff his wife could gather were wadding up paper and putting it in piles. Their crime? Being covered in pony names with contacts and references to other churches.

"I'm just saying" said Gardner"...this place is built like a fortress.."

"...and I'm telling you 'No!'" Pastor interrupted. "Unlike some tales from our history: we are not five hundred conquerors holding a continent of 'My My' hostage...what would the Lord think if we were? Not ever three hundred in a mountain pass!

Yes, this place 'is' built like a fortress like the Almost at Test Us, its foundation of solid stone built over ancient bread ovens abandoned because the deep fire went out, but our fate would be the same, even if our position was like the city of Boxing holding out against the Gong Gong, or a fort in Manitoba!

Like the Master said in John 18:36 'His kingdom is not of this world', there is no one here to alleviate the siege!"

"Scripture: right. Points: true..."Jesser said tearing a notebook top to bottom. "Names and history right?...not so much!"

"Sorry." Pastor said gruffly "I don't have my Humane's Outline of Stranger History, Tales, Legends, and Trivium...'eighteen hundred Circa to two thousand thirty four, with alteration in six volumes, and specula declinations of degrees in variation by dimension!

Its at home at the manse..."

"We should have a tunnel to the manse. Easy to..."

Pastor interrupted Gardner.

"The point is," he took a breath, "We take this time moment by moment, and live the best we know how, Fallbrook already scouted...there is no way out! Everyone inside Church is being 'kept' inside the church when they arrive!"

"....And I'm saying, not all of us survived a shipwreck, at sea, clutching a plank, being an arrogant little kitchen colt!" he started raising his voice.

It wasn't Gardner's fault.

"Running away from here!" he came in front of the pastor.

For how hard he was tromping across the delicate membrane on memory and emotion.

"Seeing an eldritch thing, fought off by a..a... flaming spiritual cheese wheel, slamming into it and having an angel stay with you, sitting on the waters!" he snorted.

Of the dissemblance between the two.

"Biscuit!"Gardner was in his face with a click of his tongue.

The words of scripture echoed in Biscuit's ear, of what his father and mother taught him.

'Let us share a common purse and hide in wait and waylay some poor soul.' 'Do not go with them my son.'

Why had Biscuit not listened?

'A foolish son brings disgrace to his mother.'

Wasn't everything he wanted to know available for the asking of the ponies of the town leading to the libraries open to all who would seek?

'Seek and you will find, ask and it will be given, knock and the door would be opened to you.' 'That no one who comes to the father will be turned away.' and 'All who come to the Father by way of the Son.' Son being so close...as to be the father. 'The Father and I are one!''The Father never turns those who seek Him, away.'

But No!
Biscuit had to be impatient.

Had to go with the rebels of his town wanting to get away from anything smacking of the depravity of nature, and every last vestige of ancient Calvinist doctrine or Protestant work ethic.

Go out as ponies, perfect heathens!

With a ship master that may as well have been the Rider himself!

He just told snipits of the story to friends and congregation as testimony. Only his wife, Maples, knew the whole adventure, when he would wake up in a flop sweat,a start and a sob with inflicted survivors guilt, the Rider reaching from the past to a future he could never accept, his fate, the Lake of fire!

Maples reminded Biscuit of the important things and that she was there, his helpmate! 'There is a freind closer than a brother.''That God is love.''He is a God of the living.' and as long as he was alive, even after he left this pony shell, Biscuit and she, and everypony he knew and every Imago Dei the spirit led him to pray about...was also loved by God...One day, as God promises all the secret things will be revealed and all would know.

Until then, his testimony story would come out little by little, if something unforeseen should happen, it was all written down...safe at the parsonage.

How could this been unforeseen? Christians living in a world of magic....in their world, there was bound to be friction!

These unfortunate youths, at sea, the dark deep claimed one by one, his friends, till he alone was left, only the kitchen and his cookery of breads and fish between his skin the captain and his crew of uglies with their cursed cutie marks of skulls of bones of blood and death.

As the shipped tossed and toppled over the roiling sea never once did little Biscuit think to turn his eyes to all thing's creator!

No sky, instead, darkness and mold of the ship's deck met his eyes when he rocked them upward eyes. How he cursed. Eyes full of salt tears, till he had none left to cry, deep in the dank of the hybrid steam and sail ship's hold!

Even knowing every verse of the "Ancient Mariner" by heart, and "The Singers at Sea Against the Sirens" did not warn him of the coming disaster. No. He was in the prequel of "Treasure Island" in the role of Barbecue the chief...the horror.Only his wits keeping the crew well fed with a well stocked larder of proteins, keeping them from eyeing his scroungy limbs!

Fish...strange fish, and one that look astonishingly pony like. Dead when dropped on the counter. Lovely enough to make a gentle heart cry,in a way.

Biscuit? Ignored all feelings prepped it and served it up as soup.

His heart, as dry as chalk!

A wrenched dank day came. The crew and captain called out terrible ruins in rot circles round the mast, unclean fires burning.

'Teach a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it.'

'Bowing to Sun? You think that is bad? Sewing spells on their limbs? Think that is bad?"....Praying to unclean Gods in the depths of the heart of the stormy sea,horrible words that brought biscuit to the teaching of his younger days.

The Sun? The Moon? The Land? All the precious live across Equestria? Dear Lord!Monsters for the destruction of all land and overthrow of all Equestria?

Now, relieved, he could see the ship's design, old ugly and warped. It was possible to fold out into the form of a man and stride up the countryside smashing towns to bits!

These ponies actually wanted these ancient mindless horrors to merge with their craft a design only on of the most diabolical mechanized inventive minds of the "Stampedic Rush" could pull off...Nappy.

Nappy.
Had a flank covered in gears and springs, his mark.

Nappy.
Who swore to overthrow all of Equestria. Burn the past: culture,knowledge and history and set up a new order. A new of mnn! A new government and language with no ties to the old, human or equine! His designs upon all of creation.

Built a frame that lifted his form up and forced him to stand on two legs with manacles on the front hooves that could move with the dexterity of hands. His was a flag of five fingers from palm spread!

Nappy.
Forced his followers to wear the same. Their admiration for him as he pointed to Canterlot and the sky screaming "I am not an animal!" raising a single digit and cursing Celestia and her city out!

Nappy: now a terribly weathered statue in the royal garden
He, delivered by Celestia's Judge and the brilliance of her generals, with shock and awe, standing, between the shard remains of the one they, and who took the name, called Abdul Alhazred and the other, the Lord of Chaos!

Nappy.
Eternally erect, in that awful body twisting frame, him astride defiance. A tattered blank flag fluttering, posted into the ground as if he a conqueror. The wind blowing, tearing flakes, formerly of fur, skin and armor as the digits of of each manacle dropped off periodically one by one with a click of a pebble on the ground to all nature's satisfaction!

Monsters of destruction, Nappy worshiped! Monsters rebelling at everything that God has, everything noble and true and beautiful and real.

~
After the era called the "Stampedic Rush" came an era the strange ponies called "The Forgetting".

Four score years from the date the strangers arrived, desperation set in as the ponies tried to retain the memories of where they had come from, believers where protected somewhat and took shelter in the mass and communion.

The confusion of mass printing that resulted from that time! Many speculated that Nappy and the mad arab, as fellow travelers, had met and decide to divide the world between them and the racists...it was hard to know. Often Biscuit would go through the accredited works with a sensational pulp lifted to the same level on the same shelf.

Nappy, his army of mechanicals ailed with the named Abdul, his army of zealots, promised answers by false teachers for their cause, these ragged haired mangy, native born and stranger, to blow themselves to bits against the infidel!

Yet Nappy had the iron will to ally with these Saracens!

The Calif of Saddle Arabia himself sent for help against the marauders preaching at twisted version of reality, if it had not been for the unified forces of E.U.P. under Equestria's Judge under the command of the diminutive Little Shadow of the Moon, that little gnawing, biting thing, of chain, glassy eye and burning beams of light, this battle, Equestria would have been overturned and drowned in fire and water!

That is another story.

As it was, after one hundred years the descendants of Celestia's Judge couldn't remember his name, let alone the deeds he had done to let them live in the magnificent house in the valley.

She evicted them, took possession of the building and hid it behind a water fall, preserved, clean!

~

What Nappy didn't know is without God , they mindlessly lash out! Mindlessly, destroying everything they would deem threat, might, overthrow them with the excuse of evolution or in truth, "Their ancestors acknowledge God, maybe they might acknowledge him again! Press them beneath us to the depth with them before we arrive to the cold and empty smoky depths our destination! Stomp forever on that image of His!STOMP!"

For Biscuit it was too real!
His heart shattered as he saw the slimy old ones who long ago defeat the vain race of Alicorn mystics and sorcerers. Many eyes and mouths screaming and accusing mussed into the pulpy sides of slime.A wing or hoof or rump sticking out of the roping mucusing coils that caught there prey as an iguana would catch a moth,not with tongue, but in stringy drippy strands of acidic putrification returned by drawn back!

Not a mind in them, in there, to considering pegging a place, establishing a foot hold to invade the world of men! No, God was not present, this never conquering thought never entered mind, they did not consider! These mindless destroyers given over to destruction!

Biscuit prayed, was delivered into a calm sea after the ship fell away from him, pulling the storm with it, its steam engine screaming as the corkscrew and paddle wheal tried to climb, belching sulfurs gas, tried to gain traction back up to the sunlit sea, drawn to the deepest parts! Biscuit pushing upward, putting out bubbles, exhaling, so his lungs did not burst

The Last of Nappy's ancient cult of Theosophy gone!

Biscuit, bursting into a clear blue sky on the waters rippled by a zephyr breeze, grabbing something floating nearby pushed into him, his cutting board from the galley, still smelling of fish.Now he cried deep sobs.

Shadow over him. Was it a yahoo's fever dream? The whale come to swallow taking the poor pony down to the city of doom?

He laughed.

The fish he caught, pulled him out to sea! What a turn that he would be lashed to it. Another story about a whale!

Deliverance!
Angels of the sea with their ship, half horse, half griffon, hoisting him aboard, no question! The albatross cutting board into the cheerful fire as they all kept warm.

These happy faces.
Just a bath and a warm bed and warm coverings and clothes. A hug and a pat on the head. Gathering in two or threes, would whisper whenever he was on deck near them, exercise being a necessity, to keep from becoming a stiff, he always had a feeling their talk was about him.
Back to bed again grumbling with Eustachian recrimination, pertaining to Eustace Scrub, of himself.

The crew mostly let him be.

Save one big young one. She would drag him out of bed every morning, walking beside him, as he grumbled, wrap him up in her wings, bring him to the deck joining the crew. Melodically they cried before the mast, by no means was it singing!
None of them could carry a tune! They did have fun doing it.

'Make a joyful noise.'

Biscuit eventually laid his head across her back, taking in her air, like fresh outdoors, and feeling the reverberation of their cries through his body.

Taken back to the cabin, bedding fresh and changed and he, cocooned him self there, tail sticking out where head should be, until little" sky fresh" brought him supper and would read the annoyed pony stories in her language till he fell asleep. Her book: illustration of a large ship with what looked like a choir of ponies singing against harpies in the sea.

Coming to dock, all bid him leave.
A wave smile a pat and a hug, resupply,a warm coat and off they were !

Just like that!

Alone.

Looking out, he though he saw a flash. Was it a gimps of Celestia flying close to the boat? Descending...?

In the busy terminal he was alone!

Had Celestia not paid an attention after his delivers brought him back to dock? All around him other colts and fillies were scolded by guards and parents for their indiscretions.

Guards for Biscuit? They just walked on by.

Biscuit overcame his sickness, studied theology and came to the same conclusion as the many studied unicorns came, gathered for their Pow Wows, or Dream Times, or Serious Discussions, they called them, considering fancy and wild speculation tied firmly to a God centered universe, to smoke the dark brown leaf...in moderation so as not to have that most precious right of ancestry become a byword and offence to be taken away.

In conclusion: Celestia was appointed their Oyarsa, ruler of Equestria, deserving love, respect, honor and duty..she was a little off kilter!!

Not everything he learned was skewed from those unicorns. Some were a lot of fun!

From one such unicorn, a descendant of many Catholics, Sculpting Whole, remembered visions naturally, out of his pipe, smoke as Tolkien reports, told many a story of Popes selected, of an earth Pope who had once declared the Hippogriff to be a representative of Messiah!

Biscuit took some comfort in that when he remembered his rescuers, pretty good for a crazy earth pony.

Now Pastor sighed.

"Look Gardner,"he breathed into his face." We can only do what we can do. Maybe this is a quickening! So come from here some come from there, with all kinds of different motives. He gathers to himself to hear so they can decide to listen and believe!"

Gardener scoffed and turned away.

"I won't tell you what to do." He looked at him hard. "Question is: What are 'you' going to do?" Gardner had a moment of defiance then he relented in the process wadding up a parchment. The pastor winced.

He had worked hard on that thesis!

Turning, "Remember Brightener." he told the pony who had volunteered. "Keep the doors barred until the last moment, this could still only be a false alarm, wait for a signal form us to start. Start 'only' when you hear a signal, being sure." He gave her oil and a sparkier."Being sure, get it going, stay as long as you can without getting hurt then get out quickly, the old chimney's in this place still carry the air. The vent will feed the fire and it will really go! Who knows? Maybe in the panic some of us will escape."

"Or get locked in..."grumble Gardner softly as pastor Biscuit made his way out.

"You can count on me." she said as he paused by the door.

Ponies still wadded and scattered paper and parchment, he tapped on the door and turned around. "This is stupid!" he said putting the oil and sparkier so they could be gotten safely.

"Everyone, we need to make sure, to leave as little as possible," he took up a wad from a shaking pony, from the papers, holding it before the pegisi's face "so our friend can escape." He dropped the wad. "Brightener, everyone, let us pray. Maybe we are all wrong about this, so expectant of persecution!"He knelt down. There was a few moments as the ponies in the room silently prayed.
"After we leave the room, Bright Jewel, I want you to bolt the doors and keep praying. I don't know what to do. If this is real? What signal to give...?" he swallowed. "We can only do what we can do..."

"We...we.. will have to depend on Him.." she said.

"We always depend on Him."They prayed for the next five minutes.
Pastor left the room, dismissing the other ponies: Gardner, Fennel Wheal, Braw Ding and Jesser.

Bright Jewel bolted the doors behind them.

"Keep up a good face he told them...hold your loved ones close, pray for your enemies.. and forgive." They left shocked but stoic. Leaving pastor alone in the empty hall. He began his climb to the stage.

Pastor stopped.

He remembered an old tale how they used to chose a Pope...before the announcement, a chimney would put out a little cloud of smoke, or at least there was one occasion they did. If he hurried he could light a fire in the kitchen oven then maybe some of the parishioners would take warning and not come into this waiting trap.

In the kitchen he lit a punk the kindling was always ready, of rags and paper ready for wood to be added. He opened the oven only to be met by the smell of dampness and pulp paper mush.

How did that happen? The air vents were well drained, the work of master masons in there day, with then soundness of their work testifying even today, concealed through the natural craggy ground of the caverns.

He closed the ovens and walked down the hall to the stair. He saw something, in a vent, big enough for a pony to get through. He opened it and looked through and up into the yawning blackness. The strands of hair were a color he recognized.

"Good luck Gardener!" he said quietly up after the soft scraping sounds he heard. He then drew the vent closed tight and walked away. Again he stopped for a moment.

As the bells began to chime announcing service, reminding anyone to gather to come to church he was also reminded.

"I still don't have a sermon!"

Author's Note

Biscuit made his way to the front, the church was already filling, what could he do? Nothing! Nothing without causing a panic...
The choir began to filter in, they wouldn't see her till they took their seats.
"Keep smiling." he said to each quietly." We may yet get out of this. Don't want to cause a panic...sing knowing you could see God's face today."

"Tell us about the darkness, in Massachusetts." said the voice behind the curtain to the pastor in front of the whole congregation.

Eh. Why not? He didn't have a sermon.

Call to Prayer

"Harold?" Celestia asked sending the party on its way with the litter of armor.

He turned back. "Yes maam."

"Did you see a box in the building?"

"There were many boxes..."

She motioned with her hooves,"A small wood box with slit in the lid."

That's is what Harold remembered. This, his mission now.

His troop were enjoying libations and now he was inside the outer hall of the strange building!

Harold took the envelope and dropped it in the box, at least attempted too.The box was so full it grieved him to wad and shove the letter in, a letter most precious that the lady of his land had written upon.

After the final violent shoving in it was.

"Over here."he thought he heard a laughing voice whisper.

Again he felt the purse on his chest jingle.

~

"Over here!" said a unicorn in a horse whisper his coat covered in soot.

"I caan't believe you made me crawl through the old ovens out off the chimneys !"said an equally soot mare, almost in tears, trotting up beside him."That was supposed to be blocked off! How did you know it was even there?!"Now she took an aggressive posture toward him and glares. "We are supposed to be with the congregation, Gardner!" she snorted." Our friends our families. Remember?"

"You know what they say with a shovel...trial and error!" Gardner said with a snort, ignoring her last statement.

Fennel Wheel rolled her eyes just as easily straitening up as he ignored her, it didn't do any good, he was tone deaf in such maters.

"It may be pastor's idea to stay, to martyr," his voice sound dry and chalky."I'm a pony of action!" He paced like a general, tail in the air on hoof planted soundly before the other." If Equestria has turned against us.."he swore."other churches must be warned."

"It just feels wrong!"she said in a horse whisper potting down folding her front legs in the air under her neck.

~

Gardner had always been a good little pony, unlike his neighbor!

While Biscuit had gone off into the wilds, with the other strutting stallions, Gardner had stayed home.

He had read, 'The religious should help the widows and orphans in their suffering.'He had done that."That those should who think themselves spiritual should uphold those who are less spiritual."He had done that!
He had helped the widows, helped the week in their farming, helped around town, studied in school, worked hard, worked very hard, worked and worked and worked and worked!

It says of stewards, to show your worth in all dealings, ever increasing in stewardship. To Gardner, survival is, alone, not acceptable! 'Do not come to the Lord bereft'. So he invested his money.

He could be generous! How he wanted so much to be generous! To give great and mighty gifts to friends and strangers alike.

Business was so simple, invest in what every farmer knows, he had land, he had ability, he had cash, make it grow!

How ever, what he did not understand was that even though his mother had married a local, to the town he was nothing but an outsider and a stranger of the lowest caliber. That he and his mother were considered worthless and of no account despite how many good deeds they did or how much land they owned. It wasn't near their town and they never cared to visit.

Though the community said trust us, the elder of the church saying,"Your secrets are safe with us." they greedily waited for when Gardner would stumbe ask for help and like A Cast of Amontillado would wait to ferment until it was vinegar.
Scoundrels in his town! Yet these boys were the home team bred and born. Not a bit to their name, but seming such hard worker running round with carts piled high, if anyone had cared to educate Gardner before partnering with them In a Bean Fankle Kiln kind of way.

Before he knew it, not only what he had saved was gone, they were after his farm too!

There was no way to appease them, their ransom was more than he could ever afford. He couldn't 'make an agreement with them on the way to court' as the book said. When he told his friends what was happening they didn't believe him.

No one in town helped.

When he asked for prayers of the church things only got worse and how he did pray!

It was if all he said were garbled and not one soul cared to listen! No one at the church understood and he prayed that he would forgive, pray that he never saw those scoundrels again!

All he could do is wait.

His salvation came when one of the partners became greedier than his own good. The other slipped away as if a concious had grown and he wanted to avoid the mod that would arise without payment from an imaginary caravan loaded with paid for imaginary goods!

An agreement was come to by outside moderators, no one was satisfied with, except the scoundrel sated in the way Gardner suffered.

Moderators stated with a smarmy smile,"Well that's how things are."
Gardner screamed inside,"No that is how things have been made!!!"

His farm was close to other towns, well watered and verdant. So, he traveled to the other towns nearby with little hardship.

He left that small ruin of a church with its stingy and shrewd worshipers with their half link of chain, laid at His sacrifice.

The church there? Gardner put out of his mind. What race was the majority there? Out of mind. The little town? Out of his mind!

An agreement with God, to give it over to Him...and forgive, and in time that was forgot.

At the next Convention of churches, a gathering of tabernacles, he came as carriage puller, while resting on soft straw it the carriage house as the kind groomer help easy his limbs and joints to attend evening services, it occurred to him that he never saw not one member of that church from that town.He imagined he saw a link of chain, like the one they had, quietly reattached to a larger piece of mail..it could have dropped and was reattached in repair. Some of the chain mail cloth pieces were rather ragged and large!

These strange ponies.
God kept the strange ponies safe.

If He did not...sometimes, for the hateful, the lawless, the wicked, the vile, it was rumored, that Equestria itself would swallow miscreant ponies up, whole, as if they had never been on the face of the land, like the Korah and his followers.

Only at the last judgement were they to be released, at the closing of the multiverse, to face what they had done!

Still, He had his farm, with dreams of improvement set back by years. Gardening at the church was about the only thing that gave him peace from his roaring mind.

At the new Church he met Fennel Wheal who could see things sometimes having great foresight and knowledge. This cross earth pony had told him not to plant certain crops and he had humored her and had save a fortune!

She was such an exotic thing this half nocturne. He, wanting so much to propose in the ways passed down from the mustang in oral tradition of the Rites of Megan: to lay a crown of flowers around here brow and gently bind the sweetest of flowers as garland for her neck and cry out my intercesor given me!

How could he?She was everything a young stallion could want, but he he felt so much older and wasted. He didn't even have a ring! Like a cropper, on his own farm! How could he ask a mare to marry when he didn't have a bit to his name.

Yet Fennel, was always there nearby to visit, through the open part of the top of the door, with a wide ledge between them. She stayed by him, advised him and got into so much trouble when he made her skirt her instincts with him.

Gargner would come between her and trouble and take the blows, because it was his fault!

Sometimes he imagined that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, but how could he do tat to her. He was so afraid, afraid she might say no.

That was the power a mare had. With bodies and voice, she always had the power to say "no". If she said "no" that was it. How could they still be friends then? Gardner wanted that proper healthy relationship and so did she. Their relationship require a lot of investment.

Gardner believed she was worth it! Worth it to wait! He loved her because she was always be a good girl, and always would be!

Fennel found him fascinating!

~

"Oh!" He Mocked" Who has the liver quivers now?!! Just use your eyes and look to the skies! We have to get away and warn others..."he ground his teeth spitting out the words "because that is what you are supposed to do!!!"

She sighed.
Fennel Wheal's eyes became narrow slits , scanning the skies. "...Or lead them right to the next church."she said gaping.

"What's wrong?"

Her knees felt week."I have never seen, so many..."

Gardner panicked,"That's no excuses!! We have to get out!"he said in tight gasps." We have to warn our friends! We...." she looked at him with wide eyed fear, small pupils."Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You twain answer!"said an elegant voice behind him.

Gardner, anger cooled like molten metal thrown into a cold bucket, slowly turned around to face the guard brought to his attention

"Who is responsible for these arraignments, of the moon flowers, of the garden in this place?"

The garden had always been a source of pride for him, he felt it was his best contribution. He had not run away like Biscuit had instead he stayed. He help the old ones, help with harvest and field.

Gardner like to see ponies in the garden. He watched them wander as they meditated, considering greater things than themselves. He would rearranging it every season, keeping it nice in the winter.

All he could think of as he looked upon the elegant figure reclining, holding the moon flower, before them was gardens, of tombs and heavy, heavy stones as three more guards ponies popped themselves out of the ground now gleaming armor also covers in soot.

~

She approached the cross.

What could she say

"Sire,"she thought."'Please. I have heard of your might and power. They say you are a king. Please, indulge me for this interruption.'? The last thing I want is to be flippant." How had it come that she was here having no idea what to do or say? she wanted them to hear every word she said and to be flippant to the very symbol of there faith would make her goal all the harder.

There was a snap and a creek sound one of the last bits of yarn had was snapping and threatening to drop her helmet and patina plate to the floor with a clatter! Before it could, she caught it in her wing as it rolled among the downier softer feathers making her wince. Picking it up with both wings, she looked into the shining helmet reflecting her image like an eyeball.

~

She was at their side in a moment as the litter almost upturned ." Gently!" she scolded. " Don't undo all their hard work!"

She found herself staring at the captain, till he bowed down in shame.

"All their hard work..."she admonished. " At the foot, understand?" she repeated.

"yes ma'am" he said."At the foot."

"I saw one marked prayer..."

~

Her face reflected in that helmet. Like the coin, All Wishes had that he gave to Smudgie that reflected, yet changed the face to reflect a being similar yet muzzles, no, with a very tiny muzzle.

Her hard face reflected. That turned ponies to stone, sentenced a unicorn to guard a grave of one Issac, stiff as a statue, (but not so lucky!) in battered armor and that had to immolate the exiled strange ponies she set to the wasteland!

Quickly in her horn of influence she took some of her hair and made a brightly color strand of string, tied the plate so no one could see.

Her judge.
She remember him, his friends and those warrior under him. Ancient memories came to her of Nyx, warrior of the night, perhaps Equestria's first judge.

Memories.
How the judge when he lived in Filly Delphi kept the ponies there from rioting. That gift of Smudgie Pie, to help ponies remember.

That unicorn again!
Her law that he stand there, perfectly, in beaten armor, at attention with spear in hoof, and if she ever saw him shirk....every blow always felt like the first one with Celestial skill, and if she broke him? He was subject to the most agonizing restorative and healing spells she could think of! If she ever saw him slouch once! A beat down, then a heal up which was even worse, those first few times, many days of discipline!

He got it and stood attention as a statue...but he would not be so lucky, a mare interceded by marrying him.

As the judge said in the desert bringing in to redeem, so few of those ponies in exile,"It is not for Celestia I intercede..."
So she had to forgive this unicorn for her sake.

She would talk of her experiences and her judge.

She lifted the helmet back to its place. Feathers had become stuck between the armor giving it a halo crown like appearance.

She approached the alter the pastor backed away, there was no way to keep her from taking it and speaking her mind.

Author's Note

One of her judge's youngest, she didn't know, loved the unicorn since she was a child coming with her judge and his family, quite a herd, to sing for the statues...those of the strange ponies encased in stone! The Lord of Chaos too.

As the judge said in the desert bringing in to redeem so few of those ponies in exile,"It is not for Celestia I intercede..."

At once those he had freed, understood and came into the tiny fort to shelter along with some outside till all were gathered and the door was closed and under that awful statue of the judge that the sun caused to chip and crack, the rebels set to the wastes, Celestia emulsified!

Needless to say the unicorn was no longer a racist.

The Church

"Therefore, laws are for the law breaker, for the lawless! For, what fear is there for the truly innocent of the law. But who of us is truly innocent??

Who hasn't coveted or mislead or worse."He looked over the congregation to make his point."Our best hoof forward, our best acts, however, flavored with that arrogance, or vain glory or selfishness, in particular to our breed, traits we can trace come from our ancestors, Adam and Eve.

Or worse, willful stubbornness and defiance that takes away from every good deed!

How good it is that we have an intercessor! How good is His Mercy that we are blessed with speech, still children of Eve, still among the living, and are not brought down, down to brute beasts!

We have an intercessor who only asks we believe and follow. That out of our faith, good deeds rise to the surface showing we are Imago Dei, made in His image, by every gift of the Spirit evident by our faith, hope and love. Greatest being Love."

The congregation murmured an Amen!

"What great love he must have, for us to be allowed to know him and hear Him when he calls us here and latter to Himself. Let us take a moment for silent reflection: thanksgiving and petition and praise.."

After the pastor had stitched up his sermon on government and law and justice and their natural place in God's world he finished with a traditional story.

"We here, all here, know the stories of the strange ponies. Who can't help smile at the antidotes of Namis Waat of Rasom and Brutus, Calcium Carbine, Romain and others....but I will tell a scene from Smudgie Pie.

God never allows temptation for a believer more than they can handle.

Smudgie Pie pony complained, complained about being made a pony as if not expecting any to hear, complaining to the air: he was disowned, weeping, he was somehow made lower now a creature outside the wants of God.

What he didn't expect God to answer.

Answer He did!

Maybe God laughed at him.

"Your alive! A being made, with a mind and speech, you are wanted and everyone I have made. I indeed indeed want!

I never makes anything starting out bad, though it may be destined to destruction, it doesn't have to be that way.

To find the way.
Everyone has a choice!
Choice is part of the plan
Part of being alive!
Being alive is so good!
The way:
believe in the Son, trust and submit, have faith with love,
in Him."

Again our pony grumbled about government:

that he was subject to these ponies.

Again our pony was admonished to pray for peace and good things for his leaders, examples: prosperity and good life, health and whatever good thing.

The pony was upset and asked why the utmost highest was siding with his kidnapper.

He was rebuked.

'Does it not say'render under Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's'? Whatever it is, treasure, honor, respect. Always render unto God what is God's!'

He might have said,

"So you are being ruled by a giant horse? Leaders are my servants! I have appointed them! Appointed them over you.

'His servants lightning, his messengers flame,' pray for them. Finding good things from God and salvation!

Whether you be ruled be a horse, a lizard or a giant ape, pray that the peace of God, their wise rule in wisdom and good thing crest Cesar's brow!"

~

Long ago, in that very building abet much smaller.

Celestia enters quietly the outer offices. No pony has seen her, she is ready, waiting for the moment.

She is tiered! So tiered of these strange ponies in her world!

True the plays and inventions (and cities!) were fun. "Fun" in the first two years building, they were brought to Eqestria racing in all, things busy with reckless abandon, she laughed to watch them scurry, building, making, doing! As gear raced inside a machine.

The next year...the next year brought a fulfillment of unbelievable rumors! Monsters! Not bound by the laws against chaos: what they did in her world! The governors against the gears inside the machine of Equestria were smoking, had burned themselves out only an increasingly loud squealing could be heard; the gears, racing out of control, threatening to burn up all lubricant, seize and explode out all the clockwork and springs and gears of all Equestria with them!

If not for the sun, the burning hot sun the fire, that equalizer of all things...how she had tried not to let it get to this point.

Appointing a judge, but even with her training,teaching from the finest legal minds of Equestria. He? Still was making the mess worse, thick and unobservant. Jug head! Might as well have taken a giant sledge and threshed Equestria with it, leaving deep groves, the grain was spilling down, beyond into the darkness below, out of sight!

He even caused the yaks to break off diplomatic ties.

Worse he had taken liberties and not even known...."into the darkness below, out of sight!" even beyond of his own kind.

How could he not even know?!

Celestia furrowed her brow flushing red just thinking about it...."five at least...maybe more crossing the wild lands...two I know of.."she said and ground her teeth."And one for certain!"She snorted."No remembrance..that thick and clueless?"

Getting ready, her weapon drawn, she would burst through the door, splintering paneling along frame and header! Any stood up to her she would take them down! Any fled, she quietly charged her horn, she would turn to stone.

The uttered prayer only strengthened her resolve, her anger to action, pounce, more palpable.

The gall!

After what these strange ponies had done in her land, she was in her rights! What sky God could ever forgive such things?

Now they pray for their leaders what a vapid prayer what a ....but at the heartbeat before the destinies' action, was another prayer, a bright voice...a child's voice!

The request shocked her, how close to home, to her heart, it was! The answer stunned her, and prayer said by the whole congregation, shamed her.

Quiet.

Pastor spoke"...yes...for her peace, and any relative. God knows, to be immortal and be alone, without council? Yes indeed! We will take a moment to reflect on our actions, pray for our leader and any sister she may have...any children under her wing...any..."

Sickened, the madness left her. In an instant she knew she was doing wrong! Doing evil!

Shaken, her ears burning,she dropped her weapons with a clatter, in the reflected metal of the sythe blade, she saw briefly, saw, the monster on her back bent over whispering in her ear.

Turning and bucking, sending it flying? Didn't know. Sobbing, tearing armor and barding, wouldn't come off! Many small grasping hands surrounded her, over hair, skin and shell, like running through tall grass, or the sting of the ocean salt water spray,running, clips come open of themselves!

Fleeing the way she came. She thought she heard a snarl and strange ethereal voices.

Jumped out the door leaping to the sky. The sky giving way to her corporlius looking mass, she took flight in a roar of her wings.

The cool,cool sky for her.Bearing her hot, hot tears!

A gentle cloud shadowed the form of the exhausted Princess's at moon rise. Making the clouds around her glow white.These clouds in their storm pens, await the next showering, rising and lowing, kept fresh through gentle up and down drafts. Cool and refreshing, bottled up with lightening warm when they needed to be. It was quite relaxing and not a Pegisus in sight, especially at night. Celestia sighed with contemplation, her fever and tears lessening. She had come here often inspire by watching shepards and once being called the Shepherdess of the Sun.

The longer she stayed there, the more the ethereal voices she remember, as ringing bells, became spoken words of..something!

"How dare you!"snarl.

"Non of that! Back to the judge with you!"

"A tithe! A tithe! from the ruler of Equestria!!"

"Gift! A gift a mighty gift from the Oyarsa of Equestria!"

As she left the door. "All gifts are subject to the rules authority pending...."

"Fool!"the snarl"My prey I take of the strangers, many, already fallen!But her?Bid my time! When she's ripe. Pluck like a swollen peach! Yesssss...I'll draw her down just like that pegisus..to the lake of..."

"That's enough."said a mighty voice."She feels bad enough already."

"So this is what is was like for my judge as he fell among the reeds, huh?" Celestia mused in wonder as a little dove snuggled up to her muzzle and cooed. These small ones, birds came to comfort her....even under the moon's light.Medium birds, an owl gently landed on her back. Larger birds,wild geese, gracefully, gently covered her stomach with their wings.

Vision!
Oh Jewel of white stone!
Clothed in cloud white.
Clasps in darkness, of dark filigree.
Center inside.
White stone glow by lune so bright
Swirl in darkness and in light!
Beautiful!

What a lovely jewel though Celestia.

"I will give a white stone and on that stone their new name shall be written."The verse came to Celestia's mind..Where had she had heard it? From a strange pony..yes.

Sparrow brought her from her thoughts, sadly sung in question,"Yes, I know what happened to him among the reeds." Again sparrow sang. "No...I don't blame the chipmunk or an other anmale that tried to comfort him...he should not allowed himself so vulnerable, sleep so compromised, but that pegisi!"She sadly said,"Taking advantage...sin upon sin...finally paid, now unwept, unsung, unremembered..."Her eyes flashed."Oh! That rider will join her soon!" Her face was made hard by firelight's glow.

She was startled by the light, her fever returning, "Please! Creator of all things. Save me from him!"... now it reflected fear on her face. Relenting she closed her eyes and blinked.Her face softened.

It was Philomena.

The hour was late and Philomena had come to get her for the sunrise.

Celestia, gentle rose, then dismissed her flock.

She caught the wind in her wings, glanced back, snapping ahead to look away,fear teared her eyes. On a white cloud she thought she saw a dark twisted form sitting on it, a captured throne; large hob goblin eyes watched. She forcibly calmed herself to fly over horizon."Gods and strange ponies my forgive..."she swallowed."But that rider? Never!" Eye closed to stifled a sob.

"Oh Luna...what have I done...what am I to do?"

The moon said nothing.

The unicorn instigator was very surprised when she came to court that morning at the voice that left her ears ringing from the blast.

"WHO HAVE YOU LOST?"Celestia roared at the unicorn."WHAT HARDSHIP HAVE YOU FACED HERE IN THE CAPITAL,FAR FROM THE MARAUDING OF THE THUNDERING HERDS IN MY CITY. PAMPERED AND GETTING FAT LIKE A PRIZE PIGLET?! WHAT HARDSHIP HAVE YOU ENDURED, TROMPLED UNDERHOOF BY THESE STRANGE PONIES?"The unicorn in her court was brought to heel!

She who had caused the trouble, that mare, was ordered bound hoof and hoof, in court, before Princess and aristocracy, but her humiliation was not done! Bound by Celestia herself and plopped on her back.

"Why are you doing this?!" the unicorn screamed in unthinking rage.

Celestia looked her over. Over her belly, over her back."You have no reason to behave this way!"

No bruises i.e. No rider.

The mares mouth opened wide and her cry became even shriller. "These ponies are an abomination!! Their children are monsters..."

"Silence!"Celestia roared, the court halls seemed empty after."There are few punishment to dol out to a manipulative creature as yourself..."

"Two..."said the mare volunteering before understanding slamming her jaw shut and clamping her lips.

Celestia spoke in a deep voice."Two..

A digit between one and three."She stared daggers at the mare.

"One:

The garden."

At this the mare's eyes grew as large as saucers and her breath began quickening as if attempting to cycle or store enough oxygen to keep as a reserve for her new station.

Celestia as if for emphasis turned walked back and sat on her throne. She began preening, as if paying her now no mind. Twisting her own wing and feathers in a way, to a point, it looked as if the wing would break, to the discomfort of courtiers and guards watching.

She turned and continued staring at the mare, her magenta eyes burrowing into the mares.

Next, speaking at the same time, with her hoof, doing a typical tap test, slowly, along her horn, 'click,click,click,click." testing for softness and soundness listing for rot or cavities invisible cracks and abscesses. 'click,click,click,click,click...'

It was unusual. After all, the sovereign of Equestria had regular check ups, insisted, because she was always in the best of health...but...she had not seen the royal physician for almost a year.....so...

"One:

'click,click,click,click,click,click,click.....'

The court and the exceeding silence of court was becoming uncomfortable. The slow clicking, a tapping on the brain, knock, knock, as well as unseemly for the princess, brazen and exceedingly bratty.

" ...or the wasteland," The clicks echoing through the chamber in the silence, her eyes unblinking." where they are exiled." The mare's face twisted and her eyelids tightly shut. She brought all her legs together, her tail wrapping round as looking away.

'click,click,click,click.....'

At every click the mare would curl up more, wince and flinch.

"Two:"

Celestia stopped the clicking sighed,looking away. There was an immediate release of tension at court, the empathetic sovereign of Equestria every pony knew and loved.

" Guards."quietly, coming to attention. "Before I finish the count, her, outside the city , its gates, never enter again."
Still Equestria's finally authority! A harsh ruling but livable.

Humiliated, but resigned and relieved, she also was carried out of Celestia's presence, dismissive!

Celestia sat there alone with the guards, contemplating her rash confusing actions as of late. One guard approached.

"Your Majesty may I speak with you? In private?"

Her response?

Turned his side to her, lifted the armor, turned to the other side and looking making him extremely uncomfortable.

"Leave us."she said to guards and citizens, officials and aristocracy, "and let me have council with this strange pony in our guard. He who can empathize with mares!" she smirked,placing armor back on his sides, he flushed and bowed.

"This strange pony with the mark of the moon on his flank above his nebs!"

Songs and Sermon-Readings

The pastor's wife tried to suggest the little ponies be gentle pulling bell but they didn't listen.

They never listened!

So all hope that fewer might attend due to the lack of ringing was dissipated in the vibrations of the bells, soon given, the cord, to the two plain clothes officers ,clueless, confused, looking at the rope. What to do? Half heated pull the bell ding likewise as pony ignoring you.

"No!"laughed a jolly little fellow."You have to keep the rhythm like this!" and he tugged on the cord so hard it picked him off the ground laughing all the way. The guards did the same and soon were making merry!

"Glad they're having fun..." Thought Maples.

Pastor made his way to the front, the church was already filling, what could he do? Nothing! Nothing without causing a panic...he nodded at Maples who had taken her usual seat, though he could see her shining eyes. Would there be time to rush to her before the end? He would see her again! Already he could feel his eyes getting damp.

He passed in front of the colossal form of the Princess hidden in shadow. He swallowed, "Your magesty..." with a polite bow that slender sharp spire dipping in return did nothing to usage the grip of terror on his heart. "Yet voice inside kept saying, All is well!"

The choir began to filter in, they wouldn't see her till they took their seats.

"Keep smiling." he said to each quietly." We may yet get out of this. Don't want to cause a panic..."he caught their hooves and hugged them."sing knowing you could see God's face today."

Taking their seats quizzical looks turned to strange forced smiles from the elders when they saw the princess, made their way and calmed the younger, keeping the moral up (except for the silly young ones who had to have it explained, in harsh whisper, why the princess sitting there was bad. Some still didn't understand), so accustomed to the art of performance by being part of the choir.

Scripture were well worn passages and commentary of the temple in Jerusalem and its construction, darting from the touchstone to the temple of Herod back to David and with the lesson of the capstone, in memory of the day the churches foundations were laid...practically the same every year, same nods and some yawns accompanied with nudged loving knee jabs.

"Remember Jesus is now the temple and high priest his atonement enough to save. He is with God, now, dwelling with believer and all believers being temples themselves, houses of God's Holy Spirit."

The organist who was well apart began the introductory."God of our fathers." by Dan Robers, followed by a nervious rendition of"He Hideth my soul" by Kirkpatrick organ singing along a little slow not really liking to follow.

"Great is thy faithfulness" Rice, by the whole congregation.

Announcements came, then there was singing...confused looks over every hymn. That deep note or reverberado heard throughout the church.

The Organist scratched her head and did some manual tuning on the nobs, to no avail. Husbands looked to wives, wives looked to husbands, who normally sang off key, and families looked to children who were larking or didn't know how to read music.

"Ohno."Though the choir director, "organist brought out her tambourine!" her eye twitched"It's no good when she brought her tambourine!"grumbling."she's impossible when she brings out her tambourine.I should have know when those songs were program listed."

The choir director rolled her eyes, pastor made signs with his hooves for her to let it go.

Go she did. She made music with that thing and could play songs no pony could match.

"Must I die to the sound of primitive rattling bangles?" whined the director against her rival in her mind.

For Celestia it was a show and she kept quiet through the two songs played.

"And they'll know we are Christians by our love..." by FR. Peter Scholtes, a song Celestia and most of the guard were polite enough not to sing. The congregation sang in melody as the bangles rattled and she kepi time on the stretched canvas, followed by a great flourish of jingling.

With simple hoof skill, with an old knowing smile, without magic, tambourine sounded to a drum. A beat with the bangles accenting. She led them in an ancient song passed down in her families called, "The Coloring Song." by Petra.

Satisfied she ended with a great rattle and pop! Nope, the problem was the organ. She put tambourine away looking over to the choir director. Shame on her for feeling a little satisfaction irking her!

The Organist sighed as the choir director glared trying to get some message across with her mind, which was impossible being she wasn't a unicorn and the organist wasn't into that kind stuff magic and rot circles sure her faith wouldn't allow it, circles no, absolutely not!
To play a dozen cords on the organ, sure, using her mind and limbs at the same time in a graceful octopus ballet...mind reading? Definitely not!

Organ must be out of tune, she yawned, find that weird note,notes, later. She drozely daydreamed of explored pipe rooms of tin, led and wood. Like those new books by AK Yearling. (she had written suggestions for a book she could write similar to Organist's dreams.
Such dreams! She played gloriously for God with all her might for a dark Princess of Night and Wild Organ Carnivals,in her loneliness, laughed wept for joy and trying to out sing the immense pipes of the cosmos! Organist would wake and pray for her, this sad dark lonely princess...sitting on dust.)

How glad she was, a unicorn, knowing how to do a proper tap test for abbesses and anomalies in the pipes!

Organist certainly didn't see the princess!

Now was the time for the sermon.Pastor Biscuit remembered, didn't have a sermon.

"Tell us about...the darkness...in Massachusetts." said a voice ahead behind the curtain to the pastor in front of the whole congregation.

The congregation murmured, this was something new. A new sermon delivery perhaps?

Eh. Why not? He didn't have a sermon.
"Another world: New England's Dark Day, May 19,1780(see notes 1)
The Dark Day inspired terror, panic and puzzlement. Men prayed and women wept. Thousands left off work and took to taverns and churches for comfort.
Children were sent home from school. Bewildered chickens went to their roosts, frightened cattle returned to their stalls, Night birds whistled, frogs peeped as they did at midnight.

One anonymous poet wrote,
'Nineteenth of May, a gloomy day,
when darkness veil’d the sky
The sun’s decline may be a sign,
some great event is nigh.'

In a place called Connecticut, members of the Legislature, called the State Council, feared the Dark Day signified the Day of Judgment.
Some members clamored to adjourn the session.
Some said it was a judgment from God!

Males wept, Mares wrung their hooves and people took solace in taverns, temples.

An Abraham Davenport earned lasting fame for his response:
"I am against adjournment. The day of judgment is either approaching, or it is not. If it is not, there is no cause for an adjournment; if it is, I choose to be found doing my duty. I wish therefore that candles may be brought."

"Pastor, pastor!"cried a little filly from the congregation. Then had her mother shush her.
Pastors instincts rushed out sure that he had beat Celestia, in speaking next.

"Let the child speak."he said

"Well,"she cleared her throat,"Me and my friends...I know the poem...you want us to recite?"

"That sounds excellent! Yes, please."

As the fillies and colts made their way to the front the congregation murdered, "A new way of presentation?"Well, the congregation was interested.

"I learned this from my grandfather along with the The Deacon's Masterpiece, and taught it to my friends."note1.5

"A poem from five hundred years survives." Thought Celestia. "but after one hundred years my Judge's descendants couldn't even remember his name. Curious and curiouser.

The Filly cleared her throat:
"Abraham Davenport by John Greenleaf Whittier in 1873: a poem about the Dark Day in 1780"note 2

In the old days (a custom laid aside
With breeches and cocked hats) the people sent
Their wisest men to make the public laws.
And so, from a brown homestead, where the Sound
Drinks the small tribute of the Mianus,
Waved over by the woods of Rippowams,
And hallowed by pure lives and tranquil deaths,
Stamford sent up to the councils of the State
Wisdom and grace in Abraham Davenport.

A little colt next forcefully took the recitation.

'Twas on a May-day of the far old year
Seventeen hundred eighty, that there fell
Over the bloom and sweet life of the Spring
Over the fresh earth and the heaven of noon,
A horror of great darkness, like the night
In day of which the Norland sagas tell,
The Twilight of the Gods. The low-hung sky
Was black with ominous clouds, save where its rim
Was fringed with a dull glow, like that which climbs
The crater's sides from the red hell below.
Birds ceased to sing, and all the barnyard fowls
Roosted; the cattle at the pasture bars
Lowed, and looked homeward; bats on leathern wings
Flitted abroad; the sounds of labor died;
Men prayed, and women wept; all ears grew sharp
To hear the doom-blast of the trumpet shatter
The black sky, that the dreadful face of Christ
Might look from the rent clouds, not as He looked
A loving guest at Bethany, but stern
As Justice and inexorable Law.

Another filly, her voice would crack at times as she spoke to be heard in the great hall.

Meanwhile in the old State House, dim as ghosts,
Sat the lawgivers of Connecticut,
Trembling beneath their legislative robes.
"It is the Lord's Great Day! Let us adjourn,"
Some said; and then, as if with one accord,
All eyes were turned to Abraham Davenport.
He rose, slow cleaving with his steady voice
The intolerable hush. "This well may be
The Day of Judgment which the world awaits;
But be it so or not, I only know
My present duty, and my Lord's command
To occupy till He come. So at the post
Where He hast set me in His providence,
I choose, for one, to meet Him face to face,
No faithless servant frightened from my task,
But ready when the Lord of the harvest calls;
And therefore, with all reverence, I would say,
Let God do His work, we will see to ours.
Bring in the candles." And they brought them in.

It was the colt's turn.

Then by the flaring lights the Speaker read,
Albeit with husky voice and shaking hands,
An act to amend an act to regulate
The shad and alewive fisheries, Whereupon
Wisely and well spake Abraham Davenport,
Straight to the question, with no figures of speech
Save the ten Arab signs, yet not without
The shrewd dry humor natural to the man:
His awe-struck colleagues listening all the while,
Between the pauses of his argument,
To hear the thunder of the wrath of God
Break from the hollow trumpet of the cloud.

Now the filly who had started it.

And there he stands in memory to this day,
Erect, self-poised, a rugged face, half seen
Against the background of unnatural dark,
A witness to the ages as they pass,
That simple duty hath no place for fear.

Scientific research into old trees in the Algonquin Highlands, Ontario, concluded the Dark Day resulted from a massive wildfire in Canadian forests. Scientists found charcoal and resin – ‘fire scars’ — in the growth rings of the trees.

Pastor spoke,"Around midnight, a light breeze sprang up, blowing away the clouds and vapors, wrote Dow. Moonlight illumined the earth.
The next day, the sun came out as usual."

" What did you do that day of darkness when the sun didn't rise last week?"Asked the voice behind the curtain.

He replied, "It was Sunday. We stayed at our posts sang, sermon and said our prayers as we always did. Then upon the next hours and the sun did not rise we sent our unicorn brothers to help others with work and chores, to see..."

"And still you prayed?"

"Yes." said the pastor.He swallowed.

"So you just got...more candles then?For? Best for God to find you at your post...?"

"I stayed at my post!" cried a mare.

Biscuit was quick,"Do you have a witness?" asked the pastor.

"Yes!" said a stallion in a deep voice. "I witnessed her tail while cleaning the gutters by moonlight...I mean what she says is true I couldn't see her cute..It was just so dark, had a glow crystal behind my ear, she was speaking below me and I heard the roaring!"

"...and I'm a witness to him through a window!"said another mare.

"Let us begin then..." said the pastor.

"Well, truthfully...I went to market and set up my flowers...it was the festival, and I thought I could maybe earn a little, just that one day of Sunday, add to my tithe for the collection plate. It was still dark. I fell asleep.
As scripture says, I didn't do right. I fell asleep: as the disciples in the garden, as the virgins waiting for the bridegroom...as a worker needed for harvest.
When I woke it was still dark. I thought, 'Good I didn't sleep that long! Bedautiful stars! If only I had studied navigation in school I could tell what time it is.'
'Thou think the stars lovely do you? Then you shall see them always!' a tall dark mare stood over me, no it wasn't the wind I had heard it was her voice! She had woken me up, I remember my...my ears were a little ringing. I suspected that annoyed the mare the more. I offered her flowers, it seem to placate her just a little as if the roses stirred old memories. Charmed she was, she said they were beautiful with the dew sparkling on each dark leaf and soft petal. I told her they were most fragrant at midnight.
She roared at me! Upturned my tables!
Then in a voice of ice she said,'I will be uld through nightmares! Mending you would be left a withering heap!'
Oh what she said to me! I can't repeat. Saying then the rider could have what was left! As far as I was concerned I was dealing with a devil straight from hell! I didn't know what to think, it was all so strange! But God gave me strength!
I walk straight up to her and put my chest to her horn. Foolish I know. I said," Be not afraid of one who crumples the mind and body but be afraid of the one who can unmake you body and soul! To live is Christ to die...gain!"

The vengeful spirit gaped at me, turned to smoke and fled just as it says,'Submit to the Lord! Resist the devil and the devil will flee.'

The stallion spoke next."Yes."the stallion said rubbing one of his ears. "It poured up the spout like a torrent, rushing up, cackling as it fled away! The smoke fled past me I saw it rush toward the Everfree!"

Mare," I saw the smoke. It gushed out! Dirt and water everywhere!"

"Yes..." said the stallion rubbing one of his ears.

"The dirt was everywhere!" said the mare."It covered him from head to hoof, I thaought I heard it cackled, over his head from my window!' Oh! Such faze for a Sud lovin fait!' It was away."

"Nightmare would be amused to soil the completion of a hardworking earth pony." Thought Celestia.

"I'm still cleaning from last week. I came down to the street from the roof, helped Ash Berry clean up."

"I'm so glad my friends came to me, Violets Sharps, we went home and prayed for the rest of that dark day, then the sun came out."

Pastor though of bright Jewel praying in the cluttered office full of wadded paper.

"'When two or more are gathered in my name I am there also.' How fortunate sometimes God let's us be intercessors in his stead. To show mercy and comfort to our brothers and sisters."

No more interruptions. Service continued as usual.

"Let us pray for understanding."

"Now to prayers...a prayer for the princess a prayer for any sister, brother or heir.."

"Stop!"roared the voice, the princess stepped from behind in a flourish from the curtain so all the congregation could see her.
They gasped!

Author's Note

Note 1: Taken from New England Historical Society
Note 1.5: Poems ate public domain
note 2: [Abraham Davenport by John Greenleaf Whittier in 1873, in public domain.