by Chris Wright
CHAPTER 53
Raking Straw
We've been resting for a short time, and now Interpreter is taking us to see a painting of the Good Shepherd. James seems to understand how the sheep in the picture was lost on the mountains, and in great trouble until the Good Shepherd found it and took it in his arms. We all stare at the painting, and it slowly dawns on us that this is the King's Son -- and he looks exactly like Goodwill!
Interpreter takes us into a poorly lit room where a miserable-looking man is working hard. The floor of the room is covered with straw, and small sticks and dust. The man is holding a rake and using it to pull the rubbish into a heap. He doesn't look up when Interpreter opens the door, and he only seems interested in the rubbish.
"Why is he doing this?" Matthew asks.
I have no idea, and turn to Interpreter, hoping he has the answer.
"This man keeps asking the King for riches, and now he believes all this rubbish is extremely valuable," Interpreter tells Matthew, although all of us are listening to the answer. "The King is sorry for him, and every day he sends a messenger offering him a golden crown instead of the straw."
As Interpreter speaks, he points up. We raise our heads and notice an angel holding a bright crown.
"But he doesn't see it," Mercy says, frowning.
"No," Interpreter says. "That's because he won't look up."
I have to swallow hard. "I was just like this man," I say. "I always wanted things, and didn't care about the King and his City. But I do care now."
Interpreter nods. "There is only one person in a thousand who does not seek wealth," he said.
I think that's why Christian's father didn't start the journey with Christian, because he was too busy making money at work. Perhaps he's already started now. I hope he has.
James is wriggling around in frustration. "Will the man never look up?" he asks.
Joseph adds, "How long will the angel wait for him?"
"I cannot tell you," Interpreter tells them. "The King is patient, but the man is so sure he'll find treasure in the rubbish, that I don't know if he will ever look up."
Interpreter takes us next into a magnificent room and asks what we can see in it. I wonder if this a trick question, because the room is completely empty -- apart from a large spider dangling from the ceiling. I don't know what to say.
"There's nothing here," Mercy says, echoing the words I'd like to use -- if it didn't make me sound foolish.
"I can see a spider," Joseph says. "A great big one."
I tell him not to be so rude.
"Only one spider?" Interpreter asks. "I can see seven." And he's looking at each of us in turn.
What does he mean? There are six of us, which makes seven if he's including the spider. "Do we all look as ugly as the spider?" I ask, rather annoyed with Interpreter. But before he can answer, I understand what he's saying. "That spider has a nasty bite," I say, "and we sometimes speak unpleasant things with our mouths. Am I right?"
Interpreter smiles. "You're very quick," he says.
I'm ashamed of things I've said in the past, and hide my face with my hands. Mercy is blushing, and my brothers have turned away. They obviously feel as I do.
I'm about to ask why such a magnificent room has a spider in it, but I don't want to sound impolite.
"There is still something you have not understood about the spider," Interpreter says with a smile. "This is a fine room, perhaps the finest in the house." He looks at us to see if we can see the point he's making.
When we've all shaken our heads, Interpreter says, "You may be thinking that the spider doesn't deserve to be here, but we allow it to spin its web in this room. So, even though you often do wrong, the King will give you a wonderful place in the Celestial City -- because you belong to him."
I start to cry when I realise how kind the King is, and I think Mercy is crying too. I'm not sure about my brothers, for I don't like to look at them and embarrass them by letting them see my tears of shame.
Interpreter takes us to another room filled with hens. Some are pecking at corn, and some are drinking from a bowl. Each time they fill their mouths, the hens lift their heads and look at the ceiling.
"Why are these hens like good pilgrims?" Interpreter asks.
"Because they look up as though to say thank you every time they get food and other good things," Samuel says. "So we should keep saying thank you to the King."
I'm proud of him. "Samuel's right, isn't he?" I say to Interpreter.
Interpreter nods and takes into the garden where there are borders filled with flowers. Interpreter tells us that the King's servants are like these flowers. "Some are tall and stately, and no one can help seeing how beautiful they are. Others are small, and perhaps their blossoms aren't even brightly coloured, but they have a sweet scent." Interpreter goes on to say the gardener loves all his flowers, and puts each one in its best place in the garden.
"In the same way," he adds, "the King loves all his servants, and gives them each a special place in his Kingdom. Some have difficult and important work to do, and others have only straightforward work, but not one of them is forgotten."
A robin flies down and settles on a low branch. It has a large caterpillar wriggling in its beak. I look away in disgust. "I wish robins only ate crumbs and things," I say, wrinkling up my nose. "That's such a lovely caterpillar he's caught. I don't think I like robins anymore."
"Perhaps Interpreter has another warning for us," Mercy says quietly, nudging me.
Interpreter hears. "Well said, Mercy," he says, as he chases the robin away. He must have realised it upset me.
I can't see any point to this. "You'll have to tell me what it means," I say.
"That robin is like people who say they are followers of the King," Interpreter explains. "When they are in the company of true followers, they do and say nice things, but when they are with the King's enemies they can do horrible things. It's what they do naturally."
I get the point now.
Interpreter asks me about my old home in the City of Destruction, and even persuades Mercy to tell him about the time she came to the house with her mother and saw the letter the King sent me. Mercy explains how she suddenly made up her mind to be a pilgrim, even though her friends laughed at first, and her mother told her she couldn't see why Mercy wanted to do such a thing.
"So even though it upset my mother and father," Mercy tells Interpreter, "I knew I had to start that day."
"And do you have any regrets?" Interpreter asks.
Mercy shakes her head. "Not any more."
CHAPTER 54
Greatheart
In the morning, the light of the rising sun wakes me. I call the others and we all wash and dress quickly, eager to continue our journey.
But when we go downstairs, Interpreter says, "Before you eat, I want you all to take a bath."
Not me, surely, I think to myself. Maybe the boys have missed a bit here and there, but I've washed ever so carefully since I came to this house. I almost feel insulted.
"The bath I have for you is one you will not find in any other place," Interpreter says. "The water will wash you cleaner than you are able to clean yourselves."
So we take it in turns to take a bath in marvellous, pure water. Although I thought I was clean enough before, I come out feeling more wonderful and happy than I ever knew was possible. Somehow, all the aches in my joints from the journey, as well as the dirt from the past, have been washed away. I feel clean inside and out.
Interpreter says we look "fair as the moon" when he sees us, and puts a mark on our foreheads with a special seal. "Now you will know you belong to the King's family," he says. "And others will know it too."
I had no idea this was going to happen when we got up this morning, and I'm so glad we stopped here at Interpreter's house. But Interpreter hasn't finished yet.
"The clothes you are wearing are no good for travelling," he tells us. "We must give you some new ones."
I fee
l myself going red. "I'm ever so sorry," I say. "I washed and mended them as well as I could, but they're badly worn and I couldn't make new ones in time."
"You did your best," Interpreter tells me, "but even if they were new and clean, they would not be suitable. The King has provided clothes for all his pilgrims, and he will not welcome you in any others."
Mercy and the boys receive spotless clothes to wear. Interpreter also has a set for me.
"Did Christian get some of these clothes?" I ask, but even as I put the question, I know I've made a mistake in asking it. Of course, Christian must have had them. How else could he have got into the Celestial City?
"Christian was given his new clothes at the Cross," Interpreter says.
I look at my brothers and at Mercy, and when I see how good their clothes are, I feel almost frightened. "If the journey is long and difficult," I say to them, "how can we possibly keep these clothes clean until we reach the Gates of the City?"
Joseph and James stand still, gazing solemnly at each other. "We can never play anymore," they say to each other in dismay.
Interpreter smiles and draws the boys nearer to him. "Do not be afraid," he says. "The King loves to see his pilgrims happy. Your clothes will not be harmed, unless you quarrel or act in a foolish way. Run about as much as you like, as long as you do not leave the Way of the King."
I look at Mercy. "The King is so good," I tell her.
Mercy shakes her head slowly in disbelief. "I know I'm a true pilgrim now," she says, with tears in her eyes. "All this time I've been afraid, because I entered the Wicket Gate without receiving a message from the King. But now look at me -- I'm clothed in garments from his own treasury. Oh, the King is so good to me, I could cry for joy."
"You are crying for joy," I say, giving Mercy a hug.
"You are washed clean," Interpreter says, "and clothed with righteousness through the King's Son."
Interpreter gives each of us a piece of rolled up paper. "These are your Rolls of Faith," he explains. "You must look after them carefully, because you will need to show them at the entrance to the Celestial City. You are in the King's family, and are his for ever."
We prepare to leave, and Interpreter hands me a parcel. "This is for the next part of your journey," he says. "I've put a pomegranate and a piece of honeycomb in there for you all. And there is also something to drink."
He calls one of his young servants whose name is Greatheart, and says to him, "I want you to go with these pilgrims to the House Beautiful, and take care that none of the King's enemies hurt them on the Way."
Greatheart is a tall, pleasant-looking young man. He's wearing a suit of bright armour and carries a sword at his side. I feel sure he'll be able to protect us if we meet with any danger.
Interpreter and his family come to the door and watch us set off. Greatheart leads the way, while Joseph and James stay close behind him. I'm walking with Mercy and Samuel, and some way behind us is Matthew.
I turn to see why he's dropping back. "Is anything wrong?" I call.
Matthew shakes his head.
"Well, you're looking poorly." A sudden thought occurs to me. "Are you still feeling ill from eating those berries?"
"I don't think so," Matthew says.
"Don't think so, indeed," I say. "Well, I hope it isn't far to the House Beautiful."
"So do I," Matthew says, clutching his stomach and dropping even farther back.
CHAPTER 55
The Cross
We have only been going for a short time, and already we've come to the Cross on a small hill. Greatheart says we can stop here for a rest. We sit down on the grass and Greatheart tells us how Christian's burden fell from his shoulders when he got here.
"Christian was forgiven by the King's Son when he entered the Wicket Gate," Greatheart explains, "but he still felt the burden of all the things he'd done wrong in the past. But when he came here to the Cross he understood that the King's Son had taken everything from him, so he need not feel guilty any longer."
I have all sorts of questions for Greatheart about the King's Son, and all he's done for us. Greatheart obviously loves the King's Son, and seems willing to talk about him.
"Didn't you recognise the King's Son when he let you through the Wicket Gate?" Greatheart asks.
I almost jump with surprise. "The only person we saw was Goodwill." I remember how James asked me if Goodwill was the King's Son. I'd even started to put the question to Goodwill, but Mercy asked him about the dog and it went out of my mind.
"If you saw Goodwill, then you saw the King's Son," Greatheart says with a broad smile. "They are indeed the same person. Who else do you think could let you into the Way of the King, but the King's Son?"
"But I didn't ..." I start to say.
"You didn't thank him enough." Greatheart finishes the sentence for me. "Don't worry, Christiana, the King's Son knows all about you, and he loves you. It is he who has forgiven you for all the things you have ever done wrong, and it is he who has washed you clean, and it is he who will receive you into his Father's City."
"Why is there a Cross?" Joseph asks.
"A good question, and one that not everybody understands," Greatheart says. "The King was once angry with every person in the City of Destruction, and he wanted to punish them for doing wrong. But his Son has taken the terrible punishment instead, on this Cross. So now the King can offer forgiveness and cleansing to everyone who asks him for it."
To think we actually saw the King's Son when we entered the Way of the King, and didn't realise it. Well, I believe James did. I keep thinking back to the time at the Wicket Gate, wanting to see Goodwill again in my mind, so I can remember him more clearly.
"What are those pieces of paper?" I ask, noticing things nailed to the Cross.
"They are lists of all the things each one of you has ever done wrong," Greatheart says. "Why don't you go and read the one with your name on it?"
Why don't I? Why would I want to be reminded of all those things? I'd much rather the King forgot about them! But I can't resist having a look, so I go forward cautiously, as though afraid of being bitten, and get the piece of paper with my name on it.
"It's blank!" I say in surprise. "There's nothing written on it!"
"Maybe you weren't listening just now," Greatheart says with a smile. "Because his Son died on the Cross, the King offers forgiveness and cleansing to everyone who asks. His Son was punished instead of you, Christiana, so all the wrong things you have ever done are now forgiven and forgotten. They are washed away, so the paper is blank."
For the first time ever, I understand what it means to be forgiven by the King. I break down in tears and kneel in front of the Cross to say thank you. I don't look at my brothers or Mercy, but I can hear them doing the same, for every piece of paper is blank.
The time slips quickly away, and we feel almost sorry when we have to leave this quiet resting place.
Not far from the Cross we find some chains, hanging on a post by the side of the road. Greatheart says this is where Christian found three boys called Simple, Sloth and Presumption, sleeping on the grass with their feet bound in these chains. They didn't listen to him when he woke them and told them to keep going, and in the end he had to leave them here. Greatheart says they never tried to undo their chains, for they had no wish to continue their journey.
So all day long the three sat idly by the road, doing everything they could to upset the King's pilgrims by trying to persuade them to leave the right path. In the end, they caused so much trouble that the King lost patience with them and ordered them to be taken away.
Greatheart points to the chains. "People can see them here, and be warned not to try to delay other pilgrims," he explains.
I close my eyes for a moment and try to imagine Christian standing on this bit of the path, talking to those three boys. "I'm glad they didn't persuade Christian to leave the Way," I say aloud.
"And it's a good thing they aren't still here," Mercy says. "If we did
n't have Greatheart with us, they might have talked us into giving up."
The road brings us to the foot of a hill where I find a spring of water bubbling up inside a deep pool. I'm feeling thirsty, so I bend down to catch some water in my hands.
Greatheart shakes his head. "Don't drink it," he says. "Not long ago this pool was clear as crystal. But some of the evil prince's servants found the spring, and they think it's fun to make it unfit for the King's pilgrims to drink. So every time they come past they kick dirt into it, to make it too muddy for anyone to drink from their hands."
I remember packing a cup in Matthew's bag, and Greatheart tells me to fill it with water from the pool and wait for the dirt to settle. After a few minutes the water looks clear and bright, so we take it in turns to drink carefully from the cup, and feel refreshed.
A path goes up the middle of the hill. It's marked The Way of the King. Greatheart says this is Hill Difficulty, and he shows us two paths made by the evil prince, both blocked off with posts and chains. One path is marked Danger, and it leads into a dark forest, and the other is marked Destruction and goes towards some treacherous mountains.
"Formality and Hypocrisy were lost down those two paths," Greatheart tells us, "but Christian climbed the King's path up the hill. Since then, the King has sent men to put these warnings across the wrong paths. Even so, some pilgrims can't see the danger and ignore the signs, because the paths look so easy."
CHAPTER 56
Hill Difficulty
As we go up the hill, Greatheart holds onto James, and the rest of us help each other as much as we can. The track is steep and rough, and the sun's rays beat down fiercely on our heads.
Presently Mercy groans loudly. "What a dreadful way up. I don't think I can walk another step. Let's sit down for a few minutes."
James hears Mercy, and he too asks to stop. He's been doing his best to climb the hill, but he keeps falling, and his hands and knees are bruised and sore.
"We can't rest here," Greatheart says.
This makes us all sigh noisily.
Greatheart smiles. "Don't worry, we're near a place the King has made for his pilgrims. Just keep hold of my hand, James. You've climbed bravely, and we're already past the worst. And, Joseph, you hold onto my other hand."
James looks happier when he hears Greatheart's words. "It's harder to go uphill than it is to go down," he says.