\n
The old man \u201cWell,\u201d said \u201cWe need to \u201cSir,\u201d The old man \u201cMy dear he \u201cShould you \u201cMe?\u00a0 Why not you?\u201d \u201cThe news \u201cWhat shall \u201cMy queen, \u201cNo my king, The king \u201cCan we not \u201cI am afraid And as she The king \u201cWasn\u2019t \u201cYou are so \u201cSo we did \u201cNo, dear \u201cWhat will She nodded The king looked \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The old man stumbled, fell, and lay in the snow-covered road trembling.\u00a0 His body ached.\u00a0 His head turned from side to side, gasping.\u00a0 His breath was barely visible in the icy evening air.\u00a0 No one saw him crumple.\u00a0 No one saw him breathe his last as the winter night descended like a black and blue […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[16],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/258"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=258"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/258\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1059,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/258\/revisions\/1059"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=258"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=258"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thewonderchildblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=258"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nstumbled, fell, and lay in the snow-covered road trembling.\u00a0 His body ached.\u00a0 His head turned from side to side,
\ngasping.\u00a0 His breath was barely visible
\nin the icy evening air.\u00a0 No one saw him
\ncrumple.\u00a0 No one saw him breathe his last
\nas the winter night descended like a black and blue shroud.\u00a0 No one saw the snowflakes fall onto his open
\neyes.\u00a0 And as his soul quivered from the
\ncage of his ribs and stood beside his former home.\u00a0 And then two other beings rose from the
\nshell: a king dressed in a white ermine cape with a flowing purple train, and a
\nqueen dressed in silk threaded with gold.
\nThey stepped free of his flesh and moved a few yards away.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nthe king to his bride as he straightened his robe, \u201cwhere to next?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n
\nfind a kingdom,\u201d replied the queen, \u201cone we can be sovereign over, one we can
\nhelp prosper.\u201d\u00a0 She looked towards the
\nsoul of the old man, which stood like a grey, naked tree.<\/span><\/p>\n
\ncalled the king, \u201ceh, sir?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n
\nstared into eternity, dazed, eyes and mouth wide open, utterly alone inside.<\/span><\/p>\n
\ndoesn\u2019t know what\u2019s happened,\u201d said the queen.<\/span><\/p>\n
\ntell him?\u201d said the king.<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span><\/p>\n
\nmight come easier from someone as beautiful as you,\u201d smiled the king.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nI say?\u201d she asked, \u201cHow can I tell him he never even knew we were inside
\nhim.\u00a0 How can I tell him that he could
\nhave lived another ten years in great happiness and personal freedom had he
\nonly sought our counsel?\u00a0 How can I tell
\nhim he is trapped where he stands until he is taken to the underworld by the
\nbeasts which have grown in his soul and that are now spreading from his
\nbitterness into the ground?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n
\nyou are reading too much into his face.
\nHe\u2019s just in shock.\u00a0 The
\ntransition was sudden and he\u2019s just a little disoriented.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n
\nlook at his feet.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n
\nlooked down at the spirit\u2019s feet.\u00a0 From
\nthem poured roots, like so many chalky grey claws into the ground.\u00a0 The soul of the old man began to
\nshudder.\u00a0 He looked down and screamed a
\nsilent scream.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nhelp him?\u201d shouted the king.\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n
\nnot.\u00a0 He never wanted us before.\u00a0 That\u2019s why he doesn\u2019t see us now.\u00a0 No dear, he will be pulled under soon\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n
\nspoke, the soul of the old man was sucked downwards like water in a drain.\u00a0 He whirled around, in a ghostly pirouette arms
\nlashing like branches in a storm.\u00a0 The
\nroots pulled him down and within a few seconds he was gone.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nreached for the queen\u2019s hand.\u00a0 They both
\nwept and held each other.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nthere something else we could have done?\u201d sobbed the king, \u201cI mean while we
\nwere yet within him?\u00a0 Couldn\u2019t we have
\ncalled louder, given more signs and blessings?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n
\nkind,\u201d said the queen stroking the king\u2019s face, \u201cbut no.\u00a0 We tried speaking to him every day. \u00a0We called him to his destiny, we heralded him
\nto his dreams, but he refused to listen.
\nHe wallowed in his fears, resentments, and criticisms of others.\u00a0 He worshipped his prejudices and his
\nbitterness.\u00a0 Once these grew into beasts
\nwithin him, there was no room for us and for service to the world.\u00a0 There was nothing else we could do.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n
\nnot fail him?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n
\nking, we did not.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n
\nbecome of him?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n
\nher head and smiled towards the old man\u2019s dead body and said, \u201cWatch.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n
\nat the wind-blown, snow-dusted husk of the man lying in the road and suddenly
\nhe heard a cry come from within the dead body.
\nIt was the cry of a baby.\u00a0 It was
\na cry of rage and of wildness.\u00a0 And as
\nthe king watched, the queen moved towards the body and bent low, offering her
\nhand into the shell. \u00a0The king winced as
\nhe saw her hand lower deeper into the man. \u00a0Then a baby\u2019s hand emerged and wrapped itself
\naround her fingers.\u00a0 She carefully lifted
\nthe child upwards and drew him close to her chest.\u00a0 The baby quieted immediately and after he
\ndid, the queen kissed his head, whispered something into his pearled ears, and
\nthen stood him up beside her.\u00a0 He wobbled
\non chubby legs but remained standing.\u00a0 He
\nwiped his eyes–his eyes of moons and stars, his eyes of eternal summer, his
\neyes of everlasting hope.\u00a0 He looked up
\nat the queen and laughed the laughter of brooks and of wheat fields, of crystal
\nsnow falling, of the dawn.\u00a0 His eyes met
\nthe king\u2019s.\u00a0 The king bowed low to the
\nchild.\u00a0 The child nodded his head and
\nthen looked at the place where the old man\u2019s soul had been dragged into the
\nunderworld.\u00a0 And with a deep breath he
\nwalked to the hole and began singing the song of the morning sun as he climbed
\ndownwards into the darkness to retrieve what was lost.\u00a0 They listened as his voice echoed into the
\nvast distances of eternity and space.
\nAnd when they could hear the child no more, they took each other\u2019s hands
\nand turned and walked across the startling snow covered landscape in search of souls
\nthat wanted to be free.<\/span><\/p>\n