by Alice Busch
A Light Shines
Biblical Stories for Children Series
Volume I
Alice Busch
Copyright 2014, Alice Busch
Note from author Alice Busch: These are fictional stories for children and adults in relation to Biblical events. They are written from the viewpoint of imaginary children, as they might have lived in and around the times of the various biblical people and stories. The narratives are meant to help make the intent of Bible stories more understandable to the minds and hearts of children, so they may comprehend the significance and the power of the Word more readily. The books in the series, or even in each volume, do not need to be read in order. Each story is a single vignette within the volume.
Table of Contents
Daniel’s Granddaughter
Fire From Heaven
Feeding Many
Shimri’s Deaf Father
See the Salvation of God
Other Titles by Alice Busch
Connect with Alice
Daniel’s Granddaughter
Alice Busch
“Mama! Mama!” Patrice yelled as she came in from the market square. “Mama, they have posted the decree! We may no longer worship our Lord as Hebrews have done from the beginning!” Patrice was breathless from running home from the market, after hearing the announcement by the scribe of the king.
“Patrice – my daughter, little one, we must make provision. When the king’s men set a trap for one such as Daniel, your grandfather, alas the whole family suffers. Quickly – pack enough for yourself and your little sister, Banina.”
Patrice ran to the back of the house, and while her baby sister slept, she gathered clothes, diapers and provisions for a journey. Their house was on the main thoroughfare of the Road of Kings, since Patrice’s grandfather Daniel was the Chief Administrator of the Satraps, or Governors. As Patrice packed, she watched out the windows, to see if any of the neighbors watched them. She knew there were spies everywhere. She had overheard some children in the square taunting another child because his uncle was overheard saying something against the king. Those who taunted the child gave him a fright by saying they were going to tell the guards about this unlawful act. The poor child ran home crying. Patrice never forgot that scene.
Over the recent months she had overheard adults speaking to one another in barely audible whispers of the traps the king’s representatives were setting up for the Hebrews. It seemed that some people knew of the news before official announcements were made. But never mind that – she must keep a watchful eye to make certain that no one was watching. If anyone got wind of the fact that her family was preparing to escape the wrath of the king, they would be in trouble plenty!
When she had enough provisions packed as previously arranged, she ran back to the kitchen and found her mother crying. “Why, Mama, do you cry so?”
“I am not as brave as your grandfather, little one. I know not where we shall go or what we shall do. Perhaps my great aunt Mimia could put us up for a short while until we have a clear route to follow. But then, I fear they will follow us. Once they find us they will throw us to the lions! When they threw that stranger to the lions because he had stolen a candlestick from the magistrate’s palace, they threw his entire family in with him. Audillea from the upper street was there and saw the whole thing. The lions tore them limb from limb, even the children and wives! Oh, daughter, I fear so!”
“I shall pack some provisions for you and grandpapa. We will escape the king’s verdict.” Patrice’s words tasted strange on her tongue, since didn’t believe them herself. She was only trying to give her mother hope.
“Listen, my daughter – to my words,” her mother said fiercely as she grabbed her arm, “Tell not your grandpapa of our plans! He has great faith, but so did Rabbi Tabeal, whom they slaughtered in the Temple when I was a child! How does faith save us? I do not know, I do not know.” She lamented.
“Mama, you must dry your eyes before grandpapa arrives home, for he will know that you have been crying.”
~ ~ ~
Later that afternoon, when Daniel came home for the noon meal, Patrice knew that he would go to his upper chamber and pray as he always did toward Jerusalem, on his knees. She knew he would never allow the king’s edict to overrule the Laws of the Almighty. She knew she must be strong. Grandpapa would know what to do. She wished she could talk to him, but her mother had told her to keep her tongue.
That evening, over the supper of lentils and leeks, and fine vegetables, her grandfather told her mother and herself of the king’s edict. He reassured them that all would be well. A lump formed in Patrice’s throat as he talked, for she had heard so many stories of horrid things. The soldiers could be so evil and mean to those they deemed to be breakers of the king’s laws. Grandpapa was now saying that it does not matter what laws the king makes. Even kings cannot override the Laws of the Almighty.
The next two days seemed the longest of her life. Patrice kept the packed provisions stashed in the corner of her own chamber, knowing that they would be safe from her father’s eyes. Each day her father would come home at the three prescribed hours and offer his prayers. She wished that he would at least leave the windows closed, but he did as he had always done, and opened them wide, so he could see Jerusalem in the distance – at least in his mind’s eye, if not in reality. Each time he prayed, she prayed for the safety of her family. She felt she was praying against her father’s will. Little did she understand that she was praying the same thing as he. Only his prayers included thanksgiving and praise and humility. Hers contained crying and fear and hope.
~ ~ ~
Finally that dreaded day arrived. Grandpapa was upstairs praying before the noon meal. Mama and Patrice were in the kitchen. Patrice was feeding Banina some mashed food left over from breakfast. Mama was setting the food on the table when a pounding came to the door. Both women froze, their eyes huge with fear.
“Open up by order of the king!” The pounding continued while the woman and her daughter sat rigid with fright. Suddenly the door flew open and the soldiers rushed in. “Where is he?” the leader demanded.
Patrice’s mother rose slowly to her full height and looked the soldier right in the eye and asked, “Who is it you wish to see?”
“You know well enough! Tell us where is Daniel the governor!” Then, without warning, they broke into teams and began running throughout the house. Daniel’s house was a large house because of his exalted position in the king’s court. Mama grabbed Patrice’s hand and held it so tightly that she almost cried out in pain.
“You take Banina, and run!” Her mother looked sternly into her eyes. She knew she must do it now.
“Mother, Mama – you go too?”
“No. Go now!”
Patrice bundled Banina into her arms and rushed out the back door before the soldiers could come back into the kitchen. She ran down the alleys and streets and ducked into the crowded market square. Then she stopped running, walking along trying to look normal and nonchalant as if nothing were wrong. She knew that if anyone suspected that she were running in fear, they might detain her. All the Medes and Persians in the area were always suspicious of the Hebrews. They loved discovering any faults their neighbors might show and report them to the authorities.
From a certain vantage place Patrice could just see the top of her father’s chamber windows. She stayed in that area of the market, trying to look as if nothing were wrong, but her heart was pounding. Her eyes were round with the terror of knowing what might happen to her grandfather and mother. She fought hard not to cry.
Patrice
waited and wondered what she needed to do. After dark she would venture back towards home to see if her parents were safe.
~ ~ ~
The sound of crying came from the back wall of the house. Murmurs of voices could be heard. Patrice hoped the voices were those of friends come to comfort her mother. Comfort? Oh no! No! If they had come to comfort mama, that would mean that something had happened to grandpapa! What should she do? She held the baby close to her, fearing to go near the house. If she had been alone, she would have gone closer to see if she could hear what they were saying. But she had to think of her baby sister. “Banina, my sweet little sister. I don’t know what to do.”
Just at that moment, old man Saul came around the corner. Before she could hide her face, he said, “Ah! Patrice! Good child – your mother will be happy to know you are safe.” Patrice looked up at him, questions in her eyes.
“Grandpapa?” was all she could say.
Saul looked sad.
“Grandpapa!” Patrice almost collapsed in dread.
Saul said to her in comforting words, “Your grandpapa will be all right. He has the faith of the Almighty on his side. Yes! He will show those soldiers a thing or two! Now – go to your mother. Comfort her with your presence.”
As Saul walked off, Patrice peeked around the corner from whence he had come. She didn’t know what she expected to see, but she hoped it truly was safe for her to go home.
“Patrice – my daughter – my brave one!” Mama screeched as Patrice stole a peek into the window at the back of the kitchen. “Come in here, my dear one!” The other ladies heads all turned toward Patrice. She looked at each face in turn, seeing fear, dread, and red eyes as all the women were crying.
One woman opened the door and ushered Patrice into the kitchen. Her mother grabbed her and hugged her tightly. “At least I know my Patrice is safe with Banina. Tomorrow we will go to my Aunt Mimia’s. Tonight I am too exhausted to move.
“But Mama – where is grandpapa?” Patrice still didn’t know what had happened to her grandfather.
“Oh my child. They took him.” She cried in desperate wales, “They will throw him into the den of lions! Saul has gone there now to see what has become of him. By morning, I fear, we shall be paupers without our loving papa. Word has been sent to my aunt Mimia to accept us if she will, until we may seek housing amongst our families in the town of Sacarid.
With the words of Patrice’s mother, all the women set up waling again. They touched Patrice and her mother, someone took Banina from her arms and gave her some food and milk. The women comforted them as well as they could, all the while knowing that the outcome was bleak. They had all heard stories of the lion’s den. They all knew what this meant. Patrice heard the women occasionally make plans of this sort and that, to give them something to do while they waited for the dreaded news of her grandfather’s death.
A kindly older woman put a bowl of porridge on the table and told Patrice to eat. She tried, but he was shaking and crying too hard. She knew she needed to keep her strength up for the sake of her mother and little sister. But all she could do was cry.
Rabbi Susi came into the kitchen and led the women in a prayer vigil. His prayer went on and on. Patrice hardly heard it, for all she could think of was that tonight or tomorrow her grandpapa would die.
She decided she would die too. Yes – that is what she would do! She would go find where the lion’s den is located. She felt stronger now, since she had a plan. At the close of the prayer, she would eat a few bites to strengthen herself for her journey, and she would sneak out the back door. The confidence of having a plan made her much stronger. First she would leave a note in her bed chamber, explaining her plan to her mother. Then she would leave stealthily by the side door at the end of the hall.
~ ~ ~
It wasn’t long before Patrice was able to put her plans into action. She ate a few bites, for which some of the women praised her. Then she excused herself from the room and went to her chamber. There she wrapped herself in the large dark shawl that she used when they traveled through the strange streets of the Medes and Persians where the houses were exquisite with beauty and guards were everywhere with their stern faces and swords at the ready. She understood that her grandfather was a governor over the satraps amongst these gentile people, and that he wielded no small amount of authority. But still when they traveled through that part of the city, she held her shawl up to cover her face. She had seen the way the men looked at her beautiful mother and some of them looked at her too. They always frightened her.
The king’s palace was a long ways from their part of town and she was sure that the lion’s den was near the palace. She walked for a very long time. The night was very dark and the stars were abundant by the time she made her way to the far end of the city where the palace was. She was finally at the palace! But it was such an enormous building, with many passageways and staircases and windows and winding pathways. Her determination faltered as she tried desperately to figure out how to find the lion’s den.
She looked around and waited until she was sure there were no people. Then she rushed quietly toward the big gate. It was shut tightly, and she wrapped her little hands around the large iron bars and tried to peer inside, but alas, she could see little. Tears welled up and her eyes burned with the weeping that was certain to roil up within her.
Suddenly she heard a strange rattling noise behind her. She peered around, holding her shawl tightly up to her face, her eyes wide with fright. An old man was coming out of a little door with bags and tools in his arms. Patrice saw her chance – and she took it! As the old man laid some of his equipment down, she ducked through the door with a swoosh! “Hey!” said the old man. “Who are you woman? Come out of there!” But Patrice kept going. First she would find a place to hide from the old man, then once he was gone, she would find her grandfather.
The vast palace was cold and dark. She could hear many sounds of the palace that were strange to her ears. From someplace far off, she actually heard faint laughing! Did she hear the roar of lions? Or was it just the wind howling through the huge palace? No – she was certain of it – she did hear the sound of great beasts. She realized she was in the tunnels under the great palace. She crept along a wall, barely able to see, the only light was that which came from the moon and stars through the small windows.
How would she find her grandpapa? In despair she leaned against the stone wall and cried softly. She prayed quietly to her grandfather’s Lord, not knowing for sure if He heard her. But she was desperate, so she prayed. Normally her people prayed together as families or in synagogue with the rabbis leading the prayers. Tonight she cried with her whole heart and spoke to the Lord like she had never done before. Was she too late? Had the lions torn him limb from limb? Oh how her heart ached for the fear of her grandfather’s torment.
Patrice pulled herself together and crept around a corner, looking in all directions. Suddenly a colossal growl seared the silence as a magnificent paw swiped at her skirt. She shrieked and leapt backwards. She fell to the ground and saw that a huge lion was at the bars of his cage, his huge paw reaching for her. She backed up some more, then realized that she was getting too close to another lion’s cage. She had never seen lions before. They were so enormous! Their teeth were yellow and massive! She looked down at her skirt and realized it was torn. The lion had almost gotten her!
She crept down the middle of the lane between the two rows of cages, staying right in the center lest the beasts would reach out with those paws and grab her. Her heart pounded with fear, but she had a more important task. She was there to find her grandfather. Even if she couldn’t save him, she would let him know she had come there to be with him. And if it meant she would die with him, then she would die with him. She hoped and prayed that he wasn’t already dead. She wanted – no, she needed to see him one last time. She needed to let him know that she had come – that she was here with him no matter what would happen.
&nb
sp; After wandering around in the cold damp palace for hours, she came to a wide path. She realized it was one of the entrances that lead out to a court. The court was massive, and held many rocks, trees and structures. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she could see faint signs of light that turned the stone structures into grotesque monsters.
Patrice wandered around for what seemed like an eternity. On the verge of giving up hope many times, she didn’t know if she would ever find her grandfather. Then she heard the faint sounds of the beasts again. Had she walked around in a circle and ended up in the same area of the cages? She didn’t know, so she had to creep closer to the sounds.
As she drew closer, the sounds grew louder. She followed the sounds until, when she was sure she had found the den, she almost cried out in exultation. Quickly she covered her mouth with her hand. What was she doing? Finding the den was only one step – and did not prove that her grandpapa was there! Nor did it prove he was still alive. Patrice was too scared to hope, too afraid not to. She moved closer to a large stone that was over the mouth of a cave opening. She circled around the area, and found bars over an opening. The stench that roiled up out of the pit was horrible. She got down on her knees and looked down into the pit.
“Grandpapa!” she cried softly. “Grandpapa!” she cried again a little louder. She waited, but still no sound. Then she realized that the sky was just beginning to dawn towards the day. If she squinted hard, she could make out the shapes of some of the lions roaming around. Patrice was aware that lions could try to leap up to get her, so she looked in all directions inside the pit, along the walls.
“Grandpapa!” she dared to cry out loudly. She waited.
From far to her left, she heard a slight rustle. She backed away from the bars in case a lion was stalking her. Then she heard a soft, familiar voice. “Patrice, is that you?”
“Yes, grandpapa!” Now she was shouting with joy!
“Hush now, little one. We don’t want the guards to hear you.”
“Oh, grandpapa!” The tears welled up in her eyes to see the form of her grandfather walking toward her out of the gloom. She could not contain the tears of joy streaming down her face. He was looking up at her, looking down at him through the barred window of the den.
